DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL 


AND 


DISEASES  OF  PERSONALITY 


BY 

3- 


TH.  RIBOT 


PROFESSOR  IX  THE  COLLEGE  OF  FRANCE. 


NEW  YORK  : 

THE    HUMBOLDT    PUBLISHING    CO. 
ASTOR    PLACE. 


THE  ni<vi?AQi?Q  ntr 

tflfl  IJioMolio  Ur 


BY  TH.  RIBOT, 

AUTHOR  OF  "HEREDITY;"  "ENGLISH  PSYCHOLOGY,"  ETC. 
TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  FRENCH  BY  J.  FITZGERALD,  A.  M. 

COPYRIGHT,  1883,  BY  J.  FITZGERALD. 


PREFACE. 

My  pvrpose  in  this  work  has  been  to  pre- 
sent a  psychological  monograph  of  the 
diseases  of  memory,  and,  so  far  as  the  state 
of  our  knowledge  permits,  to  deduce  there- 
from a  few  conclusions.  The  memory  has 
often  been  studied,  but  hardly  on  its  path- 
ological side;  and  it  has  seemed  to  me  that 
it  might  be  profitable  to  view  the  subject 
under  that  aspect.  I  have  endeavored  to 
restrict  myself  to  that,  and  have  spoken  of 
normal  memory  only  so  far  as  was  necessary 
for  clearness. 

I  have  cited  many  facts,  and  in  this  respect 
my  nae*hod  is  not  the  literary  one;  but  I 
hold  it  to  be  the  only  one  for  conveying 
instruction.  To  describe  in  general  terms 
the  disordered  states  of  the  memory,  without 
giving  instances  of  each,  appears  to  me  to  be 
labor  thrown  away,  because  it  is  important 
that  the  author's  conclusions  be  capable  of 
verification  at  every  step.  I  beg  the  reader 
to  note  that  what  is  offered  to  him  here  is  an 
essay  in  descriptive  psychology,  i.  e. ,  a  chap- 
ter in  natural  history,  and  nothing  more;  and 
that,  if  it  possesses  no  other  merit,  this  little 
volume  will  acquaint  him  with  a  mass  of 
curious  observations  and  cases  scattered 
through  all  sorts  of  compilations,  and  now 
for  the  first  time  collected  together. 

January,  1881.  T.  R 


CHAPTER  I. 

MEMORY   AS   A  BIOLOGICAL   FACT. 

Memory  essentially  a  biological  fact,  incident, 
ally  a  psychic  fact — Organic  memory— 
Modifications  of  nerve-elements ;  dynamit 
associations  between  these  elements — Con- 
scious memory — Conditions  of  consciousness: 
intensity,-  duration — Unconscious  cerebra- 
tion— Nerve  action  is  the  fundamental  con- 
dition of  memory;  consciousness  is  only  an 
accessory — Localization  in  the  past,  or  recol- 
lection— Mechanism  of  this  operation — It 
is  not  a  simple  and  instantaneous  act;  it 
consists  of  the  addition  of  secondary  states 
of  consciousness  to  the  principal  state  of 
consciousness — Memory  is  a  vision  in  time 
— Localization,  theoretical  and  practical- 
Reference  points — Resemblance  and  differ- 
ence between  localization  in  the  future  and 
in  the  past — All  memory  an  illusion — For- 
getfulness  a  condition  of  memory — Return 
to  the  starting  point:  conscious  memory 
tends  little  by  little  to  become  automatic. 

The  descriptive  study  of  memory  has  been 
very  well  performed  by  divers  authors,  espe- 
cially by  the  Scotch,  and  hence  it  is  not 
designed  to  revert  to  it.  I  propose  to  inquire 
what  we  may  learn  from  the  new  method  in 
psychology  as  to  the  mature  of  memory;  to 


2215182 


2 


THE   DISEASES   OF    MEMORY. 


show  that  the  teachings  of  psychology  com- 
bined with  those  of  consciousness  lead  us  to 
state  this  problem  much  more  broadly;  to 
prove  that  memory,  as  popularly  understood, 
aad  as  usually  described  by  psychologists,  so 
far  from  being  memory  in  its  ertirety,  is 
only  one  particular  phase  of  it,  though  the 
highest  and  most  complex,  and  that  this, 
taken  by  itself  and  studied  apart,  cannot  be 
fully  understood;  that  it  is  the  final  term  of 
a  long  evolution  and,  as  it  were,  an  efflores- 
cence, whose  root  is  found  far  back  in  organic 
life :  in  short,  that  memory  is  essentially  a 
biological  fact,  and  only  by  accident  a  fact 
of  psychology. 

Thus  understood,  our  study  involves  a  gen- 
eral physiology  and  psychology  of  memory, 
and  at  the  same  time  its  pathology.  The 
disorders  and  diseases  of  this  faculty,  when 
classified  and  interpVeted,  are  no  longer  an 
assemblage  of  curious  facts  and  amusing 
anecdotes  to  be  mentioned  only  incidentally: 
on  the  contrary,  they  are  seen  to  be  subject 
to  certain  laws  which  constitute  the  very 
groundwork  of  memory  and  which  reveal  its 
mechanism. 

I. 

In  the  common  acceptation  of  the  word, 
memory  includes  three  things,  viz.:  the 
retention  of  certain  states;  their  reproduc- 
tion; their  localization  in  the  past.  This, 
however,  is  only  one  kind  of  memory,  and  it 
may  be  designated  perfect.  These  three  ele- 
ments are  of  unequal  value:  the  first  two  are 
necessary,  indispensable ;  the  third,  that 
which,  in  the  language  of  the  schools,  i , 
called  "recollection,"  gives  completeness  to 
memory,  but  does  not  constitute  it.  Do 
away  with  the  first  two,  and  memory  is  abol- 
ished: suppress  the  third,  and  memory  ceases 
to  exist  for  itself,  without  ceasing  to  exist  in 
itself.  Hence  this  third  element,  which  is 
purely  psychological,  appears  as  superadded 
to  the  others:  they  are  permanent;  it  is  in- 
stable,  appearing  and  disappearing;  it  repre- 
sents what  consciousness  may  claim  as  its 
own  in  the  fact  of  memory,  and  nothing 
more. 

If  we  study  memory  as  it  has  been  studied 
down  to  our  time,  as  a  "  faculty  of  the  soul," 
with  the  aid  of  the  sensus  intimus  (conscious- 
ness) alone,  we  must  of  necessity  recognize 
in  this  perfect  and  conscious  phase  all  that 
there  is  in  memory;  nevertheless  that  were, 
under  the  influence  of  a  faulty  method,  to 
take  a  part  for  the  whole,  or  rather  the  spe- 
cies for  the  genus.  Some  authors  of  our 
day — Huxley,  Clifford,  Maudsley,  and  others, 
— by  maintaining  that  consciousness  is  only 
the  accompaniment  of  some  nervous  pro- 
cesses, and  that  it  is  as  incapable  of  reacting 
upon  them  as  is  a  shadow  of  reacting  on  the 
footsteps  of  the  wayfarer  that  it  accompa- 
nies, have  opened  the  way  for  the  new  theory 
which  is  here  essayed.  Let  us  set  aside  for 
th«  m  oment  the  psychic  eleme**,  which  will 


be  considered  later;  let  us  reduce  the  prob- 
lem to  its  simplest  terms,  and  see  how,  quite 
apart  from  consciousness,  a  new  state  is  im- 
planted in  the  organism,  how  it  is  retained, 
and  how  reproduced:  in  other  words,  how, 
apart  from  consciousness,  a  fact  of  memory 
has  its  rise. 

Before  we  come  to  organic  memory  itself, 
we  must  note  certai  a  phenomena  that  have 
?ometimes  been  compared  to  it.  Authors 
have  found  analogues  of  memory  in  the  inor- 
ganic world,  and  particularly  "in  the  prop- 
erty possessed  by  light-vibrations,  whereby 
they  may  be  stored  up  on  a  sheet  of  paper, 
and  there  persist,  for  a  longer  or  shorter 
time,  in  the  state  of  latent  vibrations,  ready 
to  reappear  at  the  summons  of  a  developing 
agent.  Engravings  exposed  to  the  sun's  rays 
and  then  kept  in  a  dark  place,  can  months 
afterward,  by  the  aid  of  appropriate  re- 
agents, reveaJ  persistent  traces  of  the  photo- 
graphic action  of  the  sun  upon  their  surface.  "* 
Lay  a  key  upon  a  sheet  of  white  paper,  and 
expose  the  two  to  the  direct  rays  of  the  sun; 
then  lay  the  paper  away  in  a  drawer,  and 
years  afterward  the  spectral  image  of  the 
key  will  be  visible. f  In  our  opinion  these 
and  other  like  facts  bear  too  remote  an 
analogy  to  memory  to  merit  being  cited. 
In  them  we  find  the  first  condition  of  all 
recollection,  namely,  the  retention  of  the  im- 
pression, but  that  is  all  we  find,  for  here  the 
reproduction  of  the  impression  is  in  such  a 
degree  passive,  and  dependent  on  the  inter- 
vention of  an  outside  agency,  that  it  bears 
no  resemblance  to  the  natural  reproduction 
of  memory  Furthermore,  with  regard  to 
the  matter  before  us,  we  must  never  forget 
that  we  have  to  do  with  the  laws  of  life,  not 
with  physical  laws,  and  that  the  foundations 
of  memory  must  be  sought  in  the  properties 
of  organized  matter  and  not  elsewhere.  It 
will  be  seen  later  that  they  who  overlook  this 
fall  into  errors. 

Neither  will  I  dwell  upon  certain  hab- 
its of  plants,  that  have  been  compared  to 
memory:  I  hasten  to  deal  with  facts  of  a 
more  decisive  character.:}: 

In  the  animal  kingdom  muscle  tissue  rough- 
ly illustrates  the  acquisition  of  new  prop- 
erties, their  retention  and  their  automatic  re- 
production. "Daily experience, "says  Hering, 
"shows  that  a  muscle  becomes  stronger  the 


*  Luys,  "  The  Brain  and  its  Functions." 
tG.    H.  Lewes,  "  Problems  of   Life  and    Mind." 
Third  Series,  p.  57. 

\  Two  facts  observed  by  the  Translator  may,  per- 
haps, serve  to  illustrate  the  persistence  of  impres- 
sions through  diversified  physical  changes  A  mass 
of  beeswax  that  had  been  employed  again  and  again, 
melted  and  re-melted,  in  an  electrotype  loundry ; 
which  was  all  blackened  with  graphite,  and  had,  ap- 
parently, lost  forever  the  cell-structure  of  the  honey- 
comb, was  found  to  present  on  its  surface,  with  great 
distinctness,  the  outlines  of  the  polygonal  cells. 
Again,  a  jar  of  raspberry  conserve — the  juice  of  th« 
raspberry  boiled,  with  the  addition  of  sugar,  pre- 
sented the  forms  o£  the  berries  so  distinctly  that, 
with  care,  it  was  possible  to  separate  on*  from  tbe 
mass. 


THE    DISEASES   OF    MEMORY. 


oftener  it  works  The  muscle  fiber  which 
At  first  makes  feeble  response  to  the^  excita- 
tion transmitted  by  the  motor  nerve,  re- 
sponds more  energetically  the  more  frequent- 
ly it  is  excited,  pauses  and  rests  being  of 
course  presupposed.  After  each  action  it  is 
more  fitted  for  action  again,  better  prepared 
for  the  repetition  of  the  same  work,  better 
adjusted  for  the  reproduction  of  the  organic 
process.  It  wins  more^  by  activity  than  by 
long  repose.  Here"  we  have,  in  its  simplest 
form, — in  that  which  comes  nearest  to  purely 
physical  conditions — that  faculty  of  repro- 
duction which  is  found  under  so  complex  a 
form  in  nerve  substance.  And  what  we  see 
in  muscular  tissue  we  see  in  greater  or  less 
degree  in  the  substance  of  the  other  organs. 
We  everywhere  observe  that  an  enhanced 
functional  power  of  organs  accompanies  an 
increase  of  activity,  with  sufficient  intervals 
of  rest."* 

The  most  highly  developed  tissue  of  the 
organism,  nerve  tissue,  presents  in  the  high- 
est degree  this  two-fold  property  of  retention 
and  reproduction.  Still,  we  will  not  seek  in 
the  most  simple  form  of  its  activity,  reflex 
action,  the  type  of  organic  memory.  Reflex 
action,  indeed,  whether  it  consists  of  an  ex- 
citation  followed  by  one  contraction  or  by 
many,  is  a  result  of  an  anatomical  arrange- 
ment. And  it  might  be  asserted,  not  without 
probability,  that  this  anatomical  arrangement, 
now  innate  in  animals,  is  the  product  of  he- 
redity, that  is  to  say,  of  a  specific  memory; 
that  some  time  it  was  acquired,  and  then  be- 
came fixed  and  organic  through  innumerable 
repetitions.  We  will  not  employ  this  argu- 
ment in  favor  of  our  thesis,  for  there  are 
many  others  far  less  open  to  question. 

The  true  type  of  organic  memory — and 
here  we  come  to  the  very  core  of  our  subject 
— must  be  sought  in  that  group  of  phenom- 
ena which  Hartley  so  well  named  secondary 
automatic  actions,  as  opposed  to  primary  or 
innate  automatic  acts.  These  secondary  au- 
tomatic actions,  or  acquired  movements,  are 
the  very  groundwork  of  our  daily  life.  Thus, 
locomotion,  which  in  many  lower  species  is  an 
innate  property,  in  Man  has  to  be  acquired — 
especially  that  power  of  coordination  which 
maintains  the  body's  equilibrium  at  each  step 
we  take,  by  combining  tactual  impressions 
with  visual.  It  may  be  generally  affirmed 
that  in  an  adult  the  members  and  the  senso- 
rial  organs  act  so  freely  as  they  do,  only  be- 
cause of  the  sum  of  acquired  and  coordinated 
movements  which  constitute  for  each  separate 
part  of  the  body  its  special  memory — the  ac- 
cumulated capital  on  which  it  lives,  and  by 
which  it  acts,  just  as  the  mind  lives  and  acts 
by  reason  of  its  past  experiences.  To  the 
same  class  belong  those  groups  of  movements 
of  &  more  artificial  character,  which  consti- 


*  Hering,  "  Uebe»  das  Gedachtniss  als  allgemeine 
Function  der  organisirten  Materie."  ae.  Auflage. 
Wien:  Gerold's  Sohn,  1876,  p.  13. 


tute  the  apprenticeship  of  all  manual  trades, 
games  of  skill,  various  bodily  exercises,  etc. 

If  we  inquire  how  these  primary  automatic 
movements  are  acquired,  fixed  and  repro- 
duce37wer  see  "Wat  the  first  step  consists  in 
"forming  associations.  The  raw  material,  so 
to  speak,  is  supplied  by  the  primary  reflex 
actions;  these  are  to  be  grouped  in  a  certain 
way,  and  some  combined  together,  to  the  ex- 
clusion of  others.  Sometimes  this  period  of 
formation  is  simply  a  long  continued  experi- 
mentation. Acts  which  no  A- seem  to  us  to 
be  entirely  natural,  were  originally  acquired 
by  most  laborious  effort.  When  the  babe's 
eyes  for  the  first  time  see  the  light,  we  notice 
an  incoherent  flucHiation  of  movements  ;  a 
few  weeks  later  coordination  of  the  move- 
ments is  effected,  and  the  eyes  can  adjust 
themselves,  can  locate  a  luminous  point,  and 
follow  its  every  movement.  When  a  child  is 
learning  to  write,  observes  Lewes,  he  cannot 
move  the  hand  by  itself,  but  must  also  move 
the  tongue,  the  muscles  of  the  face  and  even 
those  of  the  feet.*  But  in  time  he  learns  to 
suppress  these  useless  movements.  Any 
one,  on  essaying  for  the  first  time  any  mus- 
cular act,  expends  a  large  amount  of  super- 
fluous energy,  which  he  afterward  by  degrees 
learns  to  restrict  to  what  is  simply  necessary. 
The  appropriate  motions  become  fixed  by 
exercise,  to  the  exclusion  of  the  others. 
There  are  formed  in  the  nerve  elements  cor- 
responding to  the  motor  organs,  secondary 
dynamic  associations  more  or  less  stable  (that 
is  to  say,  a  memory),  and  these  are  added  to 
the  primarv  and  permanent  anatomical  asso- 
ciations. 

If  the  reader  will  observe  for  a  moment 
these  secondary  automatic  actions,  which  are 
very  numerous  and  fall  under  the  cognizance 
of  every  one,  he  will  see  that  this  organic 
memory  is  like  psychological  memory  in  all 
respects,  save  one,  viz.,  the  absence  of  con- 
sciousness. If  we  sum  up  the  characteristics 
of  organic  memory,  the  perfect  resemblance 
between  the  two  memories  will  clearly  ap- 
pear: 

Acquisition,  now  instantaneous;  again  slow. 
Repetition  of  the  act  in  some  cases  neces- 
sary, in  others  of  no  use.  Inequality  of  or- 
ganic memory  in  different  persons:  in  some 
quick,  in  others  slow  or  altogether  refractory: 
awkwardness  is  the  result  of  defective  organic 
memory.  In  some  persons  there  is  perma- 
nence of  associations  that  have  once  been 
formed:  in  others  these  are  readily  lost,  for- 
gotten. Arrangement  of  these  acts  in  simul- 
taneous or  in  successive  series,  just  as  in  the 
case  of  conscious  memory.  A  fact  worthy 
of  note  in  this  connection  is  that  each  mem- 
ber of  a  series  suggests  the  next  following: 
this  is  what  occurs  when  we  walk  without  re- 
flecting on  the  act.  Soldiers  on  foot,  and 
even  horsemen  in  the  saddle,  overcome  by 
sleep,  have  been  able  to  keep  on  the  marsh, 

*  Op.  Cit.  p.  51. 


THE   DISEASES   OF   MEMORY. 


though  the  latter  haye  continually  to  preserve 
their  equilibrium.  This  organic  suggestion 
is  exhibited  more'  strikingly  still  in  the  case 
mentioned  by  Dr.  Carpenter*  of  an  accom- 
plished pianist,  who  executed  a  piece  of  mu- 
sic while  asleep — a  feat  which  we  must  credit 
less  to  the  sense  of  hearing  than  to  the  mus- 
cular sense  which  suggested  the  succession  of 
movements.  But  not  to  go  in  search  of  ex- 
traordinary cases,  we  find  in  our  daily  actions 
organic  series,  both  complex  and  well-de- 
fined, that  is,  wherein  the  beginning  and  the 
end  are  fixed,  and  wherein  the  terms,  all  dif- 
fering from  one  another,  follow  in  a  constant 
order,  as  in  going  up  or  down  a  stairway  with 
which  we  are  familiar.  Our  psychological 
memory  takes  no  note  of  the  number  of 
steps;  our  organic  memory  notes  it  after  its 
own  fashion,  as  also  the  division  by  landings, 
the  arrangement  of  the  banisters  and  other 
details:  it  makes  no  mistake.  May  we  not 
say  that,  for  the  organic  memory,  these  well- 
defined  series  are  strictly  the  analogues  of  a 
phrase,  a  couplet  of  verses,  or  an  air  in  music 
for  the  psychological  memory. 

Thus,  then,  in  its  mode  of  acquiring,  pre- 
serving and  reproducing  impressions  we  find 
organic  memory  identical  with  psychological 
Consciousness  alone  is  wanting.  At  first  con- 
sciousness accompaniecTthe  motor  activity, 
then  it  gradually  disappeared.  Sometimes — 
and  such  cases  are  the  most  instructive — the 
disappearance  of  consciousness  is  abrupt.  A 
certain  man  subject  to  temporary  suspense  of 
consciousness  would  continue,  while  this  con- 
dition lasted,  any  movement  he  might  have 
begun.  One  day  he  walked  straight  into  a 
body  of  water.  Often — for  he  was  a  shoe- 
maker— he  would  prick  his  fingers  with  his 
awl  and  go  on  with  the  movements  of  stab- 
bing the  awl  through  the  leather,  f  In  the 
epileptic  vertigo  called  the  "petit  mal"  such 
occurrences  are  of  every  day  observation.  A 
certain  musician  while  playing  the  violin  in 
an  orchestra,  was  often  seized  with  epileptic 
vgrtigo  (momentary  loss  of  consciousness) 
during  the  performance  of  a  piece — ' '  nevef^ 
theless  he  would  keep  on  playing,  and  though 
absolutely  unconscious  of  all  around  him, 
neither  seeing  nor  hearing  the  musicians  who 
accompanied  him,  he  followed  the  measure."}: 
It  is  as  though  consciousness  were  teaching  us 
just  what  part  it  plays,  and  showing  its  real 
value,  and  by  disappearing  suddenly,  were 
proving  that  in  the  mechanism  of  memory  it 
is  a  superadded  element. 

We  have  now  in  logical  sequence  to  ad- 
vance further,  and  to  inquire  what  modifica- 
tions of  the  organism  are  required  for  the 
establishment  of  memory,  what  changes  the 
nervous  system  undergoes  when  a  group  of 


*  "  Mental  Physiology,"  §  75. 

t  Carpenter,  "  Mental  Physiology,"  p.  7$. 

t  Trousseau,  "  Lemons  Cltmques,"  vol.  li,  xli,  §  2. 
In  the  same  passage  are  found  many  other  facts  of 
this  kind.  We  will  return  to  this  subject  when  we 
come  to  treat  of  the  pathology  of  memory. 


movements  is  definitively  organized.  Here 
we  come  upon  the  last  question  that  can  be 
raised,  without  going  beyond  the  region  of 
facts,  as  to  the  organic  bases  of  memory;  and 
if  organic  memory  is  a  property  of  animal 
life,  whereof  psychological  memory  is  only  a 
particular  phase,  whatever  we  shall  discover 
or  conjecture  as  to  its  ultimate  conditions,  will 
be  applicable  to  memory  in  general. 

It  is  impossible  for  us,  in  this  inquiry,  to 
forego  resort  to  hypothesis.  Still,  by  avoid- 
ing all  a  priori  conceptions,  by  keeping  close 
to  facts,  and  taking  our  stand  upon  what  is 
known  in  regard  to  nerve  action,  we  escape 
all  risk  of  serious  error.  Besides,  the  hy- 
pothesis we  offer  is  capable  of  all  sorts  of 
modification.  Finally,  in  lieu  of  a  vague 
phrase  touching  the  retention  and  reproduc- 
tion of  memory,  it  will  substitute  in  our 
minds  a  distinct  representation  of  the  ex- 
tremely complex  process  which  produces  and 
sustains  it. 

The  first  point  to  be  established  is  that  re- 
garding the  seat  of  memory.  This  question 
cannot  now-a-days  give  occasion  for  any  seri- 
ous controversy.  ' '  We  must  regard  it  as 
well  nigh  demonstrated,"  says  Bain,  "that 
the  renewed  feeling  occupies  the  very  same 
parts  and  in  the  same  manner,  as  the  original 
feeling."  To  cite  a  striking  example  of  this, 
experience  shows  that  the  persistent  idea.£f_ 
a  bright  color  fatigues  the  optic  nerve.  We 
know  that  the  perception  of  a  colored  object 
is  often  followed  by  a  consecutive  sensation 
whichjpresents  the  object  with  the  same  con- 
tours, but  in  a  color  complementary  to  tie 
real  color.  The  same  may  occur  in  regard 
to  the  idea  (the  recollection).  That,  too, 
leaves,  though  with  a  less  degree  of  intensity, 
a  consecutive  image.  If,  with  closed  eyes, 
we  keep  for  a  length  of  time  an  image  of 
very  lively  colors  before  the  imagination,  and 
then  opening  the  eyes  suddenly  we  fix  them 
upon  a  white  surface,  we  see  thereon  for  an 
instant  the  image  contemplated  in  imagina- 
tion, but  in  the  complementary  color.  This 
fact,  as  is  observed  by  Wundt,  from  whom 
we  borrow  it,  proves  that  the  nerve  action  is 
the  same  in  the  two  cases — in  the  sense-per- 
ception and  in  the  memory.* 

The  number  of  facts  and  inductions  that 
go  to  confirm  this  thesis  is  so  great  as  to 
make  it  almost  a  certitude;  and  it  would  re- 
quire weighty  reasons  indeed  to  refute  it.  In 
truth  there  is  no  such  thing  as  memory  but 
only  memories;  there  is  no  one  seat  of  mem- 
ory, but  special  seats  for  each  memory  in 
particular.  Memory  is  not,  as  the  vague 
phrase  of  common  speech  has  it,  "JB  the, 
soul;"  it  is  fixed  in  its  birth-place,  in  a  part 
bf  "the  nervous  system. 

This  premised,  we  begin  to  see  our  way 
more  clearly  through  the  problem  of  the 
physiological  conditions  of  memory.  These 
conditions  we  conceive  to  be  as  follows: 


*  For   further  details  upon   this  point,  see   Bain, 
The  Senses  and  the  Intellect." 


THE   DISEASES   OF    MEMORY. 


1.  A  special  modification  impressed  upon 
the  nerve-elements. 

2.  An    association,    a   special    connection 
established  between  a  certain  number  of  these 
elements. 

Authors  have  not  given  to  this  second  con- 
dition the  importance  it  deserves,  as  we  shall 
endeavor  to  show. 

To  confine  ourselves  for  a  moment  to  or- 
ganic memory,  let  us  take  one  of  those  sec- 
ondary automatic  movements  which  have 
served  us  as  types,  and  consider  what  takes 
place  during  the  period  of  organization — for 
instance,  the  movements  of  the  legs  in  walk- 
ing. 

Each  movement  requires  the  play  of  a  cer- 
tain number  of  muscles,  superficial  or  deep- 
seated  ;  of  tendons,  joints,  ligaments,  etc. 
These  modifications — at  least  most  of  them — 
are  transmitted  to  the  sensorium.  Whatever 
opinion  one  may  hold  upon  the  anatomical 
conditions  of  muscular  sensibility,  certain  it 
is  that  it  exists;  that  it  tells  us  what  part  of 
the  body  is  concerned  in  a  movement,  and 
that  it  enables  us  to  regulate  this  movement.' 

Now  what  does  this  imply?  It  implies 
modifications  received  and  retained  by  a  de- 
terminate group  of  nerve-elements.  "  The 
movements  that  are  instigated  or  actuated  by 
a  particular  nervous  center  do,  like  the  idea, 
leave  behind  them  residua,  which,  after  sev- 
eral repetitions,  become  so  completely  organ- 
ized into  the  nature  of  the  nervous  center 
that  the  movements  may  henceforth  be  auto- 
matic."* "  The  residua  of  volitions,  like  the 
residua  of  sensations  or  ideas,  remain  in  the 
mind  and  render  future  volitions  of  a  like 
kind,  more  easy  and  more  definite,  "f  It  is 
this  organization  of  the  "residua"  which, 
after  the  period  of  experimentation  already 
mentioned,  enables  us  to  perform  movements 
with  more  and  more  ease  and  precision,  till 
at  last  they  become  automatic. 

In  subjecting  to  analysis  this  very  familiar 
instance  of  organic  memory,  we  see  that  it 
implies  the  two  conditions  mentioned  above. 

The  first  condition  is  a  special  modification 
impressed  upon  the  nerve-elements.  As  this 
has  oftentimes  been  explained  before,  we 
shall  not  dwell  long  upon  it.  In  the  first 
place,  the  nerve-filament  being  ex  hypothesi 
impressionless,  does  it,  upon  receiving  an 
entirely  new  impression,  retain  a  permanent 
modification  ?  This  is  a  moot  point.  Some 
authors  see  in  the  nerves  a  simple  conductor 
the  constituent  material  of  which,  being  for 
a  moment  disturbed  by  an  impression,  returns 
again  to  its  original  state  of  equilibrium. 
Whether  we  explain  the  transmission  by  vi- 
"brations  propagated  along  the  axis-cylinder, 
or  by  a  chemical  decomposition  of  its  proto- 
plasm, it  is  difficult  to  believe  that  nothing  of 
it  remains.  But  however  that  may  be,  we 
find  at  least  in  the  nerve  cell  the  element 


*  Maudsley,   %>  Physiology  and  Pathology  of   the 
Mind,''  p   167. 
t  Ibid,  p.  157. 


which,  by  general  consent,  receives,  stores 
up  and  reacts.  Now,  an  impression,  once 
received,  marks  it  with  an  imprint.  Thereby, 
according  to  Maudsley,  there  is  produced  an 
aptitude  and  with  it  differentiation  of  the 
element,  though  we  have  no  reason  to  sup- 
pose that  originally  that  element  differed  from 
homologous  nerve  cells.  "  Every  impression 
leaves  a  certain  ineffaceable  trace;  that  is  to 
say,  the  molecules,  once  they  are  arranged 
otherwise  and  forced  to  vibrate  in  a  different 
way,  will  not  return  exactly  to  their  original 
state.  If  I  brush  the  surface  of  still  water 
with  a  feather,  the  liquid  will  not  resume  the 
form  which  it  had  before:  it  may  again  pre- 
sent a  smooth  surface,  but  molecules  will 
have  changed  places,  and  a  sufficiently  pene- 
trating eye  would  certainly  discover  therein 
evidence  of  the  passage  of  the  feather.  Ani- 
mal molecules  that  have  been  disarranged 
have  thereby  gained,  in  a  greater  or  less  de- 
gree, aptitude  for  undergoing  disarrangement. 
Doubtless,  if  this  same  external  agency  does 
not  again  act  anew  upon  the  same  molecules, 
they  will  tend  to  resume  their  own  natural 
movement;  but  the  case  will  be  very  differ- 
ent if  they  are  again  and  again  subjected  to 
the  same  action.  Then  they  will  little  by 
little  lose  the  power  of  returning  to  their 
natural  movement,  and  will  become  more  and 
more  identified  with  that  which  is  impressed 
upon  them,  till  at  last  it  becomes  natural  to 
them  in  its  turn,  and  they  obey  the  slightest 
cause  that  will  set  them  in  vibration."* 

It  is  impossible  to  define  wherein  this  mod- 
ification consists.  Neither  microscope  nor 
reagents,  neither  histology  nor  histochemis- 
try  can  throw  light  upon  it;  but  facts  and 
reason  assure  us  that  it  exists. 

The  second  condition,  which  consists  in  the 
establishment  of  stable  associations  between 
different  groups  of  nerve-elements,  has  not 
hitherto  attracted  attention.  I  am  not  aware 
even  that  contemporary  authors  have  recog- 
nized its  importance;  and  yet  it  is  a  neces- 
sary consequence  of  their  thesis  upon  the 
seat  of  memory. 

Some  of  them  appear  to  hold,  implicitly  at 
least,  that  a  memory,  either  organic  or  con- 
scious, is  impressed  upon  a  single  cell  which, 
with  its  nerve  filaments,  would  seem  to  pos- 
sess a  sort  of  monopoly  of  retaining  and  re- 
producing it.  What  has  contributed  to  keep 
up  this  illusion  is,  I  conceive,  the  fashion  of 
speech  which  requires  us  to  look  on  a  move- 
ment, a  perception,  a  thought,  an  image,  a 
sentiment,  as  one  thing,  as  a  unit.  But  re- 
flection soon  shows  each  of  these  supposed 
units  to  be  made  up  of  many  and  hetero- 
geneous elements;  that  it  is  an  association,  a 
group,  a  fusion,  a  complex,  a  multiplicity. 
Take  the  example  already  cited — a  locomo- 
tory  movement.  This  may  be  regarded  as  a 
reflex  action  of  great  complexity,  the  initial 

*  Delboeuf,  "Theoric  Generate  de  la  S«trsibilite," 
p.  60. 


6 


THE   DISEASES    OF   MEMORY. 


impression  of  which  is  the  contact  of  the  foot 
with  the  ground  each  moment. 

Let  us  consider  this  movement  at  first  in 
its  complete  form.  Is  the  starting  point  a 
voluntary  act  ?  Then,  according  to  Ferrier, 
the  impulsion  that  has  its  rise  in  a  particular 
region  of  the  cortex  of  the  brain,  traverses 
the  white  substance,  passes  into  the  corpora 
striata,  through  the  crura  cerebri,  the  pro- 
tuberance, the  complex  structure  of  the  me- 
dulla; thence  going  over  to  the  other  side  of 
the  body,  where  it  descends  along  the  antero- 
lateral  columns  of  the  spinal  cord  to  the  lum- 
bar region,  and  thence  alone;  the  motor  nerves 
to  the  muscles.  This  transmission  is  accom- 
panied or  followed  by  a  return  to  the  centers 
through  the  posterior  columns  of  the  cord 
and  the  gray  matter,  the  medulla,  the  pons 
Varolii,  the  optic  tract  and  the  white  matter 
to  the  cortex  of  the  brain.  Let  us  consider 
this  movement  in  its  abridged  and  most  or- 
dinary form — when  it  is  automatic.  In  that 
case,  according  to  the  commonly  received 
hypothesis,  the  transit  proceeds  only  from 
the  periphery  to  the  cerebral  ganglia  and  back 
again  to  the  periphery,  the  superior  brain  not 
being  involved  in  the  movement. 

This  movement,  the  principal  stages  of 
which  we  have  roughly  indicated,  and  all  the 
details  of  which  are  not  yet  thoroughly  known, 
even  to  the  most  learned  anatomists,  implies 
the  calling  into  action  of  nerve-elements  very 
numerous,  and  very  diverse.  Thus,  the  mo- 
tor and  the  sensory  nerves  differ  in  their  his- 
tological  structure  from  the  nerves  of  the 
brain  and  the  spinal  cord.  The  cells  differ 
in  volume,  in  form  ( there  being  fusiform 
cells,  giant  cells,  pyramidal  cells,  etc.),  in  the 
directions  in  which  they  lie,  in  the  number 
of  their  filaments,  in  their  position  in  the  sev- 
eral parts  of  the  cerebro  spinal  axis,  for  they 
are  d.stributed  from  the  inferior  extremity  of 
the  spinal  cord  to  the  cortical  layers.  All 
these  elements  play  their  respective  parts  in 
the  concert  of  action.  If  the  reader  will 
glance  at  an  anatomical  chart,  or  at  a  few 
histological  preparations,  he  will  obtain  an 
approximate  idea  of  the  enormous  number  of 
nerve-elements  necessary  to  produce  a  move- 
ment, and  consequently  to  retain  and  repro- 
duce it. 

We  therefore  hold  it  to  be  of  the  utmost 
importance  to  call  attention  to  this  point, 
viz.,  that  organic  memory  supposes  not  only 
a  modification  of  the  nerve  elements,  but 
also  the  establishment  between  them  of  associa- 
tions adapted  to  each  special  action — of  certain 
dynamic  associations  which,  by  repetition  be- 
come as  stable  as  the  primary  anatomical  con- 
nections. In  our  opinion  the  thing  that  is  of 
importance,  as  supplying  a  basis  for  memory, 
is  not  only  the  modification  impressed  upon 
each  element,  but  the  way  in  which  sundry 
elements  are  grouped  together  to  form  a 
complex. 

As  this  point  is  for  us  of  the  first  import- 
ance, we  shall  have  no  hesitation  in  dwelling 


upon  it.  First,  it  will  be  observed,  that  our 
hypothesis,  which  is  a  necessary  corollary  of 
admitted  facts  regarding  the  seat  of  memory, 
simplifies  certain  difficulties,  though  at  first 
view  it  may  appear  to  complicate  them.  The 
question  is  asked,  can  each  nerve  cell  pre- 
serve many  different  modifications;  or,  once 
modified,  is  it  polarized  forever  after?  Of 
course  we  are  reduced  hereto  conjecture; 
yet  we  may  without  rashness  suppose  that 
though  it  may  be  capable  of  many  modifica- 
tions, the  number  of  these  must  be  limited. 
So,  too,  we  may  suppose  that  it  preserves 
only  one.  The  number  of  the  brain  cells 
being  600,000,000,  according  to  the  calcula- 
tion made  by  Meynert  (and  Dr.  Lionel  Beale 
gives  a  very  much  higher  number),  the  hy- 
pothesis of  a  single  impression  is  in  no  wise 
inadmissible.  But  this  question  is  of  sec- 
ondary interest  for  us,  for  even  though  we 
accept  the  latter  hypothesis — the  most  un- 
favorable one  for  explaining  the  number  and 
complexity  of  acts  of  organic  memory — we 
should  find  that  this  single  modification, 
being  capable  of  entering  into  different  com- 
binations, may  produce  different  results. 
We  are  to  note  not  only  each  factor  individu- 
ally, but  the  relations  of  all  the  factors  to 
one  another,  and  the  combinations  thence  re- 
sulting. The  modified  cell  may  be  compared 
to  a  letter  of  the  alphabet.  This  letter, 
while  it  continues  to  be  the  same,  has  con- 
curred in  forming  millions  of  words  in  the 
living  and  dead  languages.  Combinations 
innumerable  and  of  the  highest  complexity 
may  result,  through  grouping,  from  a  smalt 
number  of  elements. 

To  return  to  our  instance  of  locomotion  : 
The  organic  memory  that  serves  as  its  basis 
consists  of  a  special  modification  of  a  multi- 
tude of  nerve  elements.  But  several  of  these 
elements,  thus  modified,  may  subserve 
another  purpose,  may  enter  into  other  com- 
binations,  may  take  a  part  in  other  memories. 
The  secondary  automatic  movements  that 
constitute  swimming  or  dancing  presupposes 
certain  modifications  of  the  muscles,  certain 
articulations  already  employed  for  locomotion, 
already  registered  in  certain  nerve  elements; 
in  short,  they  find  a  memory  already  organized, 
sundry  elements  of  which  they  turn  to  their 
own  advantage,  causing  them  to  enter  intc* 
a  new  combination  and  to  concur  in  form- 
ing another  memory. 

Further,  we  would  observe,  that  the  neces- 
sity of  a  great  number  of  cells  and  nerve  fila- 
ments for  the  retention  and  reproduction  of 
a  movement,  though  the  same  be  a  compara- 
tively simple  one,  implies  a  greater  possibility 
of  permanence  and  reviviscence  ;  in  conse- 
quence of  the  number  of  the  elements  and  of 
the  solidarity  established  between  them,  the 
chances  of  reviviscence  are  increased,  each 
one  tending  to  call  forth  the  others. 

Finally,  our  hypothesis  is  in  agreement 
with  two  facts  of  daily  observation,  viz.  : 

I.  An  acquired  movement  that  is  well  fixed 


THE  DISEASES  OF    MEMORY. 


in  the  organism,  firmly  retained,  is  displaced 
only  with  great  difficulty  by  another,  having 
nearly  the  same  seat,  but  involving  a  different 
mechanism.  In  fact,  one  association  has  to 
be  broken  up  to  form  another;  established 
relations  have  to  be  annulled  to  set  up  new 
ones. 

2.  It  sometimes  happens  that,  in  lieu  of  one 
ac:ustomed  movement,  we  involuntarily  per- 
form another;  this  is  accounted  for  by  the 
fact  that  as  the  same  elements  enter  into  dif- 
ferent combinations  capable  of  producing 
nerve-discharges  in  different  directions,  a 
trifling  circumstance  may  suffice  to  call  into 
activity  one  group  instead  of  another,  so 
producing  different  effects.  Thus'  at  least 
do  we  explain  the  following  fact,  reported  by 
Lewes  (Op.  Cit.,  p.  128):  "I  was  one  day 
relating  a  visit  to  the  Epileptic  Hospital, 
and,  intending  to  name  the  friend,  Dr.  Bas- 
tian,  who  accompanied  me,  I  said,  '  Dr. 
Brinton,'  then  immediately  corrected  this 
with  '  Dr.  Bridges;'  this  also  wa>  rejected, 
and  '  Dr.  Bastian'  was  pronounced.  I  was 
under  no  confusion  whatever  as  to  the  per- 
sons, but,  having  imperfectly  adjusted  the 
group  of  muscles  necessary  for  the  articula- 
tion of  the  one  name,  the  one  element  which 
was  common  to  that  group  and  to  the  others, 
namely,  B,  served  to  recall  all  three."  The 
explanation  seems  entirely  correct,  and  we  may 
note  with  the  author  another  familiar  fact  which 
favors  our  theory  :  "  Who  dees  not  know," 
says  Lewes,  "how,  in  trying  to  recollect  a 
name,  we  are  tormented  with  the  sense  of  its 
beginning  with  a  certain  letter,  and  how,  by 
keeping  this  letter  constantly  before  the 
the  mind,  at  last  the  whole  group  emerges." 
A  like  observation  may  be  made  with  regard 
to  the  acquired  movements  that  constitute  the 
act  of  writing.  It  is  a  mistake  I  have  often 
found  myself  falling  into,  especially  when 
writing  rapidly  and  with  a  wearied  brain;  it 
is  so  trifling,  so  quickly  corrected  and  so 
quickly  forgotten,  that  I  have  had  to  make  a 
note  of  it  at  the  moment.  Here  are  some 
instances  :  Intending  to  write  the  words 
"  doit  de  bonnes, "  I  wrote  "donne."  Intend- 
ing to  write  "  ne  pas/atre  une  part"  I  wrote 
"  ne  part  faire,"  etc.  Evidently,  in  the  first 
case  the  letter  D,  and  in  the  second  the  letter 
P  (and  by  letter  I  mean  the  psycho-physio- 
logical state  which  serves  as  the  basis  for 
their  conception  and  graphic  representation), 
called  forth  one  group  instead  of  another; 
and  this  confusion  was  all  the  easier  as  the 
remainder  of  the  groups,  "onne"  and  "art," 
were  already  in  the  consciousness.  Doubt- 
less any  one  who  will  take  the  trouble  of  ob- 
serving his  own  practice  in  these  respects 
will  admit  that  such  errors  are  of  frequent 
occurrence. 

What  has  been  said  is  hypothetical,  but 
the  hypothesis  appears  to  be  in  agreement 
with  scientific  data,  and  to  account  for  the 
facts.  It  enables  us  to  contemplate  in  pretty 
definite!  shape  the  bases  of  organic  memory, 


of  those  acquired  movements  which  constitute 
the  memory  of  our  several  organs — our  eyes, 
our  hands,  our  members.  These  bases  do  not, 
in  our  opinion,  consist  in  a  purely  mechanical 
registration,  nor,  as  the  usual  comparison 
would  have  it,  in  an  impress  preserved  we 
know  not  where,  like  the  image  of  the  key 
already  mentioned.  These  are  similes  bor- 
rowed from  the  world  of  physics  and  are  out 
of  place  here.  Memory  is  a  biological  fact. 
A  rich  and  well-stored  memory  is  not  a  col- 
lection of  impressions,  but  an  assemblage  of 
dynamic  associations,  very  stable  and  very 
readily  called  forth. 

II. 

We  are  now  to  study  a  more  complex 
form  of  memory,  that  which  is  accompanied 
by  consciousness,  and  which  in  ordinary  lan- 
guage, and  even  in  the  language  of  psycholo- 
gists is  regarded  as  the  sum  total  of  memory. 
We  have  to  in'qjire  how  far  what  has  just 
been  said  of  organic  memory  applies  to  this, 
and  what  is  added  by  consciousness. 

In  passing  from  the  simple  to  the  complex, 
from  the  lower  to  the  higher,  from  a  stable 
form  of  memory  to  an  instable  one,  we  must 
not  overlook  the  preliminary  question  of  the 
relation  between  the  unconscious  and  con- 
sciousness. So  involved  is  this  problem  in  its 
native  obscurity  and  in  artificial  mysticism, 
i  that  it  seems  difficult  to  say  anything  clear 
j  and  decisive  about  it;  but  we  shall  try. 

Of  course  we  have  nothing  to  do  with  the 
metaphysics  of  the  unconscious,  as  under- 
stood by  Hartmann  and  others;  we  shall 
even  begin  by  confessing  that  we  know  not 
how  to  explain  the  transition  from  the  uncon- 
scious to  consciousness.  One  may  offer  in- 
genious, plausible  hypotheses  upon  the  sub- 
ject, but  nothing  more  However,  psychology, 
as  a  science  of  facts  does  not  need  to  concern 
itself  with  these  points;  it  takes  consciousness 
for  granted,  without  caring  for  its  genesis; 
all  that  it  can  do  is  to  determine  a  few  of  its 
conditions  of  existence. 

The  first  of  these  is  the  mode  of  action  of 
the  nervous  system,  called  by  physiologists 
nervous  discharge.  But  most  nerve  states 
do  not  awaken  consciousness  at  all,  or  but 
rarely,  and  in  an  indirect  way  :  for  instance, 
the  excitations  and  discharges  whose  scat  is 
the  great  sympathetic;  the  normal  action  of 
the  vaso-motor  nerves ;  a  great  many  reflex 
actions,  etc.  Others  are  accompanied  by 
consciousness  intermittently;  or,  though  they 
are  conscious  in  the  early  period  of  life,  they 
cease  to  be  so  in  the  adult;  instance  the 
secondary  automatic  actions  already  men- 
tioned. Nerve  action  is  far  more  widely  dis- 
tributed than  psychic  activity:  all  psychic  acts 
involve  nerve  action,  but  the  proposition  is 
not  reciprocally  true.  Between  the  nerve 
activity  that  is  never,  or  hardly  ever,  accom- 
panied by  consciousness,  and  the  nerve  activ- 
ity that  is  always,  or  nearly  always,  so 
accompanied,  stands  that  which  sometime 


THE   DISEASES   OF   MEMORY. 


has  for  its  concomitant  consciousness.  It  is 
in  this  group  of  facts  that  the  unconscious 
must  be  studied. 

Before  we  arrive  at  clearer  and  better- 
grounded  conclusions  on  this  subject,  we 
would  note  two  other  conditions  of  conscious- 
ness, viz.,  intensity  and  duration.  • 

1.  Intensity   is  a   condition  of  highly  va- 
riable  character.     Our  states  of   conscious- 
ness are   ever  striving   to   supplant  one  an- 
other, but  victory  may  result  equally  either 
from  the  superior  strength   of   the  victor  or" 
from  the  weakness  of  the  other  contestants. 
We  know — and  this  point  has  been  very  well 
elucidated  by  the  school  of  Herbart — that  the 
most  vivid  state  of  consciousness   may  grow 
steadily  fainter  till  at  last   it  falls  below  the 
level   of  consciousness,  in  other  words,  till 
one  of  its  comlitions  of  existence  fails.     We 
are  justified   in  affirming  for  consciousness 
all  possible  degrees   down   to  the  lowest,  to 
the  state  called  by  Maudsley  sub-conscious  ; 
but  there  is  no  warrant  for  maintaining  that 
this  descending  scale  has  no  end,  though  we 
may  not  discern  it. 

2.  nuration,  as  a  necessary  condition  of 
consciousness,  has  not  received  much  atten- 
tion ;  yet  it  is  of   the  first  importance.     On 
this  point  we  can  reason  from   definite  data. 
The  researches,  of  the  last   thirty  years  have 
determined   the    time   that    is    required  for 
the     different    sense-perceptions,     (hearing 
o.  16  to  0.14   sec.,  touch,  0.21  to  o.  18  sec., 
sight,  0.20  to  0.22  sec.,    and   for  the   sim- 

Slest  act  of  discernment,  that  nearest  to  re- 
ex  action  0.02  to  0.04  sec.).  Though  the 
results  vary  according  to  the  experimenter, 
the  person  under  experiment,  the  circum- 
stances and  the  nature  of  the  psychical  acts 
that  are  being  investigated,  so  much  is  at  least 
established,  viz.,  that  every  psychical  act  re- 
quires an  appreciable  duration,  and  that  the 
supposed  infinite  rapidity  of  thought  is  only 
a  figure  of  speech.  From  this  it  follows  that 
no  nervous  action,  the  duration  of  which  is 
less  than  that  required  by  psychic  action, 
can  awaken  consciousness.  An  instructive 
comparison  may  be  made  between  the  nerv- 
ous act  accompanied  by  consciousness,  and 
simple  reflex  action.  According  to  Exner* 
the  time  necessary  for  a  reflex  action  is 
0.0662  to  0.0578  sec.,  which  is  much  less  than 
that  stated  above  for  the  different  sense- 
perceptions.  If,  as  Herbert  Spencer  ob- 
serves, the  wing  of  a  gnat  makes  from  ten 
to  fifteen  thousand  beats  in  a  second,  each 
involving  a  separate  nervous  act,  we  have 
nerve  action  of  astounding  rapidity,  com- 
pared with  which  nervous  acts  accompanied 
by  consciousness  occupy  an  enormous  length 
ot  time.  From  all  this  it  follows  that  since 
every  act  of  consciousness  necessarily  requires 

*  Pfliiger's  "  Archiv,"  viii  (1874),  p.  526.  The  du- 
ration of  reflex  actions  varies  according  to  the  force 
of  the  stimulus,  and  the  direction  of  the  transmission, 
whether  longitudinal  or  transverse,  in  the  spinal 
cord.  BLT  this  question  is  by  no  means  cleared  up. 


a  certain  duration,  one  essential  condition  of 
consciousness  is  wanting  whenever  the  dura- 
tion of  a  nervous  process  falls  short  of  that 
minimum.* 

The  question  of  the  unconscious  is  OD- 
scure  and  beset  with  contradictory  opinions, 
simply  because  it  is  incorrectly  stated,  [f 
we  look  on  consciousness  as  an  entity,  as  a 
fundamental  attribute  of  the  soul,  all  becomes 
obscure  ;  if  we  consider  it  as  a  phenomenon 
having  its  own  conditions  of  existence,  ill 
becomes  clear,  and  the  unconscious  is  10 
longer  a  mystery.  We  must  never  forget 
that  a  state  of  consciousness  is  a  compkx 
fact  whicji  supposes  a  special  state  of  the 
nervous  system  ;  that  this  nervous  action  is 
not  a  mere  accessory  but  an  integral  part 
of  the  fact;  that  it  is  its  base,  its  fundament- 
al condition  ;  that  given  the  nervous  action 
the  fact  exists  in  itself  ;  that,  consciousness 
being  added,  the  fact  exists  for  itself ;  that 
consciousness  completes  it,  perfects  it,  but 
does  not  constitute  it.  If  one  of  the  condi- 
tions of  consciousness  be  wanting,  as  inten- 
sity, or  duration,  or  any  other  unknown  to 
us,  then  a  part  of  the  complex  whole — con- 
sciousness— disappears  ;  but  another  part — 
the  nervous  process — remains.  All  that  is 
left  ot  the  fact  is  its  purely  organic  phase. 
It  is  not  surprising,  therefore,  if  later  the  re- 
sults of  this  cerebral  activity  turn  up  ;  such 
activity  there  was,  though  it  was  not  noted. 

Regarded  from  this  point  of  view,  the 
whole  subject  of  unconscious  action  loses  its 
mysterious  character,  and  is  readily  explained, 
for  example,  the  sudden  in-rush  of  recollec- 
tions, apparently  called  up  by  no  association, 
that  occurs  daily  to  every  one  ;  the  lessons 
read  by  a  schoolboy  at  night,  known  by  heart 
in  the  morning  ;  problems  long  studied,  the 
solution  of  which  bursts  suddenly ,  on  the 
consciousness;  poetical,  scientific,  and  me- 
chanical inventions;  secret  sympathies,  etc. 
Unconscious  cerebration  does  its  work  noise- 
lessly, and  reduces  obscure  ideas  to  order.  In 
a  curious  case  mentioned  by  Carpenter,!  a. 

*  The  researches  as  to  the  duration  of  psychic  acts 
may  throw  new  light  upon  certain  facts  of  our  men- 
tal life.  Thus  they  help,  I  think,  to  explain  the 
transition  from  the  conscious  to  the  unconscious  in 
habits.  An  act  is  at  first  performed  slowly,  con- 
sciously: by  repetition  it  becomes  easier  and  is  ex- 
ecuted more  rapidly,  i.  £.,  the  nervous  process  which 
is  its  basis,  finding  its  course  fully  traced  for  it,  takes 
place  rapidly  and  by  degrees  falls  below  the  minimum 
duration  required  for  consciousness. 

t  "  Mental  Physiology,"  p.  533.  The  whole  chap- 
ter xiii  contains  interesting  facts  about  unconscious 
cerebration.  A  mathematician,  a  friend  of  th<-  au- 
thor, had  been  occupied  with  a  geometrical  problem, 
and  had  had  a  glimpse  of  the  solution.  He  reverted 
to  it  again  and  again  without  success.  Many  yean 
afterward  the  solution  occurred  to  him  so  suddenly 
that  he  "  trembled  as  if  in  the  presence  of  another 
being  who  had  communicated  the  secret."  If  any 
one  would  witness  the  spectacle  of  a  powerful  ami 
penetrating  mind  hampered  by  a  faulty  method,  he 
must  read  Sir  William  Hamilton's  remarkable  audy 
of  "  Latency,"  ("  Metaphysics,"  vol.  i,  lect.  rviii). 
With  his  theory  of  the  faculties  of  the  soul,  and  his 
willful  disregard  of  all  physiology,  he  is  unftbie  to 
escape  from  any  difficulty. 


THE   DISEASES  OF   MEMORY. 


m<m  was  vaguely  cognizant  of  the  work  going 
on  in  his  brain,  without  having  distinct  con- 
sciousness. "A  business  man  in  Boston 
having  an  important  question  under  considera- 
tion, had  given  it  up  for  the  time  as  too  much 
for  him  But  he  was  conscious  of  an  action 
going  on  in  his  brain  which  was  so  unusual 
and  painful  as  to  excite  his  apprehensions 
that  he  was  threatened  with  palsy,  or  some- 
thing of  that  sort.  After  some  hours  of  this 
uneasiness,  his  perplexity  was  all  at  once 
cleared  up  by  the  natural  solution  of  his 
doubts  coming  to  him — worked  out,  as  he 
believed, in  that  obscure  and  troubled  inter- 
val." 

To  sum  up,  we  may  regard  the  nervous 
system  as  being  traversed  by  continuous  dis- 
charges. Of  these  nervous  actions  some  an- 
swer to  the  incessant  rhythm  of  the  vital 
activities;  others,  much  fewer  in  number,  to 
the  succession  of  states  of  consciousness  ; 
still  others,  and  these  are  by  far  more  nu- 
merous, constitute  unconscious  cerebration. 
The  six  hundred  (or  the  twelve  hundred) 
million  cells,  and  the  four  thousand  or  five 
thousand  millions  of  fibers,  even  allowing  for 
those  which  are  inactive  or  remain  during  the 
whole  period  of  life  wichout  occupation, 
offer  a  considerable  contingent  of  active  ele- 
ments. The  brain  is  a  sort  of  busy  work- 
shop where  ten  thousand  different  operations 
are  goin,;  on  at  once.  Unconscious  cere- 
bration not  being  subject  to  the  conditions  of 
time,  and  taking  place  so  to  speat  only  in 
space,  may  act  in  diffe'rent  places  simul- 
taneously. Consciousness  is  the  narrow 
wicket  through  which  a  very  small  portion  of 
all  this  work  becomes  visible  to  us. 

We  now  see  wherein  consists  the  relation 
of  consciousness  to  the  unconscious,  and  by 
that  very  fact  we  have  a  definite  idea  of  the 
relation  of  psychic  to  organic  memory:  the 
former  is  only  one  phase  of  the  latter.  In  a 
general  sense,  what  has  been  said  of  physio- 
logical memory  applies  to  conscious  memory: 
there  is  simply  the  addition  of  one  factor.  Still 
it  will  be  of  advantage  to  consider  the  ques- 
tion anew,  and  in  detail.  Here  again  we 
have  to  examine  two  things,  namely  the  re- 
sidua and  the  groups  they  form. 

I.  The  old  theories  of  memory,  as  they  con- 
templated only  its  psychological  aspects,  as- 
signed for  its  only  basis  "vestiges,"  "traces," 
"residua,"  and  often  erred  in  employing 
these  terms  in  an  ambiguous  sense,  signify- 
ing now  material  impresses  on  the  brain, 
again  latent  modifications  retained  in  the 
"soul."  Those  who  adopted  the  latter  opin- 
ion were  logical.  But  this  theory,  though  it 
numbers  many  partisans  among  those  who 
stand  aloof  from  physiology,  is  untenable. 
A  state  of  consciousness  that  is  not  consci- 
ous, a  representation  that  is  not  represented, 
is  simply  a  form  of  speech,  and  nothing  more. 
To  eliminate  from  a  thing  that  which  consti- 
tutes it  what  it  is,  is  to  reduce  it  to  a  simple 
possibility;  that  is  to  say,  when  the  conditions 


in  which  it  exists  reappear,  the  thing  will  re- 
appear too.  And  this  brings  us  back  to 
what  was  said  above  with  regard  to  the  un- 
conscious. 

For  us,  the  question  of  ' '  psychological 
residua"  is  settled  beforehand;  for  if  every 
state  of  consciousness  implies  as  an  integral 
part  of  itself  nerve  action,  and  if  this  nerve 
action  modifies  the  nerve  centers  in  a  perma- 
nent way  then  the  state  of  consciousness  too 
is  recorded  in  those  centers.  True,  it  may 
be  objected  that  a  state  of  consciousness  im- 
plies nerve  action  and  something  more.  That 
makes  little  difference.  If  the  original  ner- 
vous state — perception — sufficed  to  call  up 
this  something  more,  the  secondary  nervous 
state  —  recollection  —  equally  suffices.  The 
conditions  are  the  same  in  the  two  cases;  and 
the  solution  of  this  difficulty,  if  solution  there 
be,  is  incumbent  on  a  theory  of  perception, 
not  on  a  theory  of  memory. 

We  may  with  Wundt  call  this  psychophy- 
siological  residuum  an  arrangement,  and  with 
him  point  out  wherein  it  differs  from  an  im- 
press. ' '  Certain  analogies  taken  from  the 
domain  of  physiology  bring  out  this  differ- 
ence clearly.  In  the  eye  that  has  been  ex- 
posed to  intense  light  the  impression  received 
persists  in  the  shape  of  a  consecutive  image. 
The  eye  which  daily  compares  and  measures 
distances  and  relative  positions  in  space  be- 
comes more  and  more  exact.  The  consecu- 
tive image  is  an  impress:  the  accommodation 
of  the  eye,  its  power  of  measuring  distances, 
is  a  functional  arrangement.  The  retina  and 
the  muscles  may  be  formed  in  the  unpracticed 
eye  just  as  they  are  in  the  practiced,  but  there 
is  in  the  latter  a  far  more  marked  anatomical 
arrangement  than  in  the  former.  No  doubt 
we  may  say  that  physiological  use  and  want 
of  organs  depends  less  upon  their  changes 
properly  so-called  than  on  the  impresses  that 
persist  in  their  nervous  centers;  but  all  phys- 
iological researches  into  the  phenomena  of 
habit,  of  adaptation  to  conditions,  etc.,  show 
that  here  too  impresses  consist  essentially  of 
functional  arrangements." 

II.  These  considerations  bring  us  to  the 
point  upon  which  we  desire  to  lay  stress.  The 
dynamic  associations  of  the  nerve  elements 
play  a  still  more  important  part  in  conscious 
memory  than  in  organic  memory.  We  might 
repeat  what  has  been  said  above;  but  this 
side  of  the  question  has  been  so  little  studied 
that  it  is  best  to  consider  it  again  under  an- 
other form. 

Every  one  finds  in  his  consciousness  a  num- 
ber of  recollections:  of  men,  animals,  cities, 
landscapes;  facts  of  science,  of  history,  of 
language,  etc.  These  recollections  recur  to 
us  in  the  shape  of  series,  longer  or  shorter. 
The  formation  of  these  series  has  been  very 
well  explained  by  the  laws  of  association  be- 
tween states  of  consciousness,  and  to  that 


*  "  Grundziige  der  Philosophischen  Psychologic," 
p.  791. 


10 


THE   DISEASES   OF   MEMORY. 


explanation  we  have  nothing  to  add.  What 
interests  us  is,  not  the  series  but  the  terms  of 
which  they  are  composed.  We  want  to  get 
at  the  simple  state  of  consciousness,  in  order 
to  show  what  complexity  it  involves. 

Let  us  take  then  one  of  these  terms — the 
recollection  of  an  apple,  for  instance.  If  we 
are  to  believe  the  dictum  of  consciousness, 
this  is  a  very  simple  fact,  but  physiology 
shows  this  to  be  an  error.  The  recollection 
of  an  apple  is  necessarily  the  weakened  form 
ot  the  perception  ~oT  an  arjpJeT What  does 
this  perception  imply?  A  modification  of 
the  retina,  which  is  the  nerve  terminus  of  a 
highly  complex  structure  ;  transmission 
through  the  optic  nerve,  and  the  corpora 
geniculata  to  the  tubercula  quadrigemina; 
thence  to  the  cerebral  ganglia  (optic  tract?); 
through  the  white  matter  to  the  cortex. 
This  involves  the  calling  into  action  of  many 
different  elements,  lying  along  an  extended 
route  Yet  this  is  not  all.  It  is  not  a  ques- 
tion of  a  mere  color-sensation.  We  see,  or 
think  we  see  the  apple  as  a  solid  object  of 
spherical  form.  These  judgments  result 
from  the  exquisite  muscular  sensibility  of  our 
visual  organ  and  from  its  movements.  But 
the  movements  of  the  eye  are  governed  by 
sundry  nerves,  as  the  sympathetic,  the  oculo- 
motor communis  and  the  oculo-motor  exter- 
nus.  Each  of  these  nerves  terminates  at  a 
particular  point  in  the  medulla,  which  is  itself 
connected  with  the  cortex  of  the  brain  where 
originate  what  Maudsley  calls  the  motor  in- 
tuitions. We  give  only  the  outlines;  for  de- 
tails the  reader  may  consult  anatomical  and 
physiological  treatises.  Thus  an  idea  may 
be  formed  of  the  enormous  number  of  nerve 
filaments  and  nerve  cells  scattered  in  groups 
through  the  different  parts  of  the  cerebro- 
spinal  axis,  that  serve  as  a  basis  for  the  psy- 
chic state — the  recollection  of  an  apple — 
which  by  the  twofold  illusion  of  language 
and  consciousness  we  are  led  to  regard  as  so 
simple. 

It  will,  perhaps,  be  objected  that  a  visual 
perception  is  highly  complex,  and  proves  too 
much  in  favor  of  our  thesis.  Take,  then, 
the  recollection  of  a  word.  If  it  be  a  written 
word,  the  recollection  is  visual,  and  the  case 
is  analogous  to  the  preceding.  But  if  it  be 
a  spoken  word,  the  complexity  is  equally 
great.  Articulate  language  presupposes  the 
cooperation  of  the  larynx,  the  pharynx,  the 
mouth,  the  nasal  passages,  and  consequently 
of  several  nerves  having  their  centers  in  di- 
vers parts  of  the  medulla,  viz.:  the  spinal, 
facial  and  hypoglossal  nerves.  And  if  you 
assign  to  auditive  impressions  a  place  in  the 
recollection  of  words,  the  complexity  is  still 
greater.  Finally,  the  medullary  center  must 
itself  be  connected  with  Broca's  convolution 
and  the  region  of  the  insula,  both  of  which 
are  universally  regarded  as  the  psychic  center 
of  speech.  It  is  seen  that  this  case  differs 
neither  in  kind  nor  in  the  degree  of  its  com- 
plexity from  the  preceding,  and  that  the  re- 


collection of  each  separate  word  must  have 
for  its  basis  a  definite  association  of  nerve 
elements.* 

There  is  no  need  to  dwell  upon  this  point', 
from  what  has  been  said  we  see  the  import- 
ance of  those  associations  which  I  shall  call 
the  dynamic  base:  of  memory,  the  modifica- 
tions impressed  upon  the  elements  being  the 
static  bases  It  will,  perhaps,  be  said  that 
our  examples  suppose  cases  simpler  still: 
true,  but  we  need  not  concern  ourselves  with 
them.  What  memory  preserves  and  repro- 
duces, is  concrete  actual  states  of  conscious- 
ness; we  had,  therefore,  to  regard  them  as 
such,  and  to  select  instances  from  that  order 
of  facts.  Physiological  analysis  and  ideo- 
logical analysis,  descending,  each  from  its 
own  side,  to  the  ultimate  elements,  are  of 
service  in  explaining  the  genesis  of  states  of 
consciousness:  but  here  we  consider  them  as 
formed.  When  we  are  learning  to  talk,  we 
employ  a  few  simple  words:  later,  we  make 
use  of  a  few  phrases.  For  a  long  time  we 
know  not  that  these  words  imply  elements 
simpler  still:  many  men  never  know  it.  Now 
consciousness,  which  is  an  inner  speech,  acts 
in  the  same  way:  that  which  for  it  is  simple, 
analysis  shows  to  be  complex.  But  no  doubt 
the  simple  states  that  are  the  alphabet  of 
consciousness,  themselves  presuppose,  for 
their  retention  and  their  reproduction,  certain 
complexes  of  nerves.  The  examples  already 
cited  with  regard  to  letters  and  syllables 
prove  this.  A  still  more  curious  one  is  cited 
by  Dr.  Forbes  Winslow:  A  well-educated 
man,  after  an  attack  of  fever  and  ague,  lost 
all  the  knowledge  of  the  letter  F.f 

Hence  if  we  would  portray  to  ourselves  a 
good  memory  and  translate  that  expression 
into  the  language  of  physiology,  we  should 
have  to  picture  to  ourselves  a  great  many 
nerve  elements,  each  modified  in  its  own 
way,  each  taking  part  in  an  association,  and, 
perhaps,  adapted  to  enter  into  many  associa- 
tions, each  association  comprising  the  con- 
ditions of  states  of  consciousness.  The 
memory  thus  has  static  bases  and  dynamic 
bases.  Its  power  is  in  proportion  to  the 
number  of  these  and  their  stability. 

III. 

We  are  now  to  study  the  special  char- 
acter of  the  psychic  memory,  that  which 
is  peculiarly  its  own,  and  which,  while  mak- 
ing no  change  in  its  nature  or  its  organic 
conditions,  constitutes  it  the  highest,  the 
most  complex,  and  the  most  mstable  form  of 
memory.  This  character  is,  in  the  language 


*  Forbes  Winslow,  "  On  the  Obscure  Diseases  of 
the  Brain,"  4th  edition,  p.  257,  mentions  the  case  of 
a  soldier  who,  having  undergone  the  operation  of 
trephining,  lost  a  portion  of  his  brain.  Some  time 
afterward  it  was  noticed  that  he  had  forgotten  the 
numbers  five  and  seven,  and  those  only.  After  a 
time  he  recoverrd  his  memory  of  these  two  numbers. 

t  Op.  cit.  p.  258.  The  author  does  not  tell  us 
whether  it  was  the  articulation  or  the  g  aphicsign,or 
both,  nor  whether  the  patient  recovered. 


THE   DISEASES   OF   MEMORY. 


II 


•f  the  schools,  called  recollection,  I  shall 
call  it  Localization  in  Time,  that  term  im- 
plying no  hypothesis  and  being  simply  the 
expression  of  the  facts. 

There  are  few  questions  that  the  method 
of  "mental  faculties"  has  so  perplexed  with 
difficulties  and  with  far-fetched  explanations 
as  this.  It  will,  therefore,  be  well  at  the 
outset  briefly  to  indicate  how,  from  our  point 
of  \iew,  the  question  is  stated  and  how  it  is 
settled. 

Localization  injime  (for  example  the  recol- 
lection that  such  or  such  an  accident  befell 
us  at  such  a  time  and  in  such  a  place)  is  not 
a  primary  act.  It  supposes,  in  addition  to 
the  principal  state  of  consciousness,  second- 
ary ones  varying  in  number  and  degree 
which,  being  grouped  around  it,  determine 
it.  Perhaps  the  mechanism  of  "recollec- 
tion "  is  best  explained  by  the  mechanism  of 
vision. 

The  distinction  between  primary  and  ac- 
quired visual  perceptions  has  been  recognized 
ever  since  Berkeley's  time.  We  know  that 
the  primary_datum  of  the  sensation  of_sjght 
is  a  colored  surface;  that  the  secondary  data 
are  direction,  distance,  form,  etc. ;  that  the 
former  is  dependent  above  all  on  the  sensi- 
bility of  the  retina,  while  the  latter  depend 
mainly  on  the  muscular  sensibility  of  the  eye; 
that  by  force  of  habit  the  primary  and  ac- 
quired have  become  so  blended  together  that 
they  seem  to  constitute  one  simple  ultimate 
act,  though  the  opposite  is  proved  by  analy- 
sis, by  experiment  and  by  divers  patholog- 


a  mechanical  invention,  or  a  feeling  —  remains- 
isolated,  and,  as  it  were,  suspended  in^ttfe- 
consciousness,  having  no  relation  to  other 
states  that  for  us  have  a  fixed  place,  and  not 
being  localizable  by  us  —  we  see  therein  onljr 
an  actual  state  of  consciousness.  But  among- 

siirh  imagpg  ijzar*  arfi  spm»   fbat    pOSSCSS    thfr 

property,  so  soon  as  they  enter  the  conscious- 
ness, of  ramifying  in  different  directions,  of 
reawakening  states  of  consciousness  that  con- 
nect them  with  the  present,  gnH  thug 


cur  to  us  as  forming  a  part  of  a  longer  or 
shorter  series  terminating  in  the  present.  loj 
other  words,  they  are  localized  in  time. 

I  shall  not  inquire  whether  it  is  memory 
that  makes  the  idea  of  time  possible,  or 
whether  it  is  the  idea  of  time  that  makes- 
memory  possible;  neither  shall  I  discuss  the 
question  whether  time  be  an  a  priori  form  of 
the  mind,  nor  whether  memory  be  explicable 
by  an  empiric  genesis.  These  questions 
have  a  place  in  a  critique  of  knowledge,  not 
in  an  empiric  psychology,  which  has  nothing 
to  do  with  these  critical  or  ontological  dis- 
cussions; it  ascertains  as  a  fact  that  time  im- 
plies memory,  and  that  memory  implies  time, 
and  is  content.  This  conceded,  how  do  we- 
localize  in  time  ? 

Theoretically,  only  one  course  is  open  to 
us.  We  detejTnipe  positions  —  in  time,,  as 
we  do  positions  in  space,  by  referring  to  a.- 
fixecl  point,  and  as  regards  time,  this  fixed 
point  is  the  present  moment.  We  may  ob- 
serve that  this  present  moment  is  a  real  state, 
having  its  duration-quantity.  Brief  as  it  is, 


ical  cases.     So^wjth_regard_to^memory.    The  i  it  is  not,  as  the  metaphors  of  ordinary  Ian- 
primary  state  of  consciousness  Ts~originally  !  guage  would  have  it,  a  flash,  a  nothing,  an. 

— •• — *-  •-1 ' «•-* —    abstraction,  like  a  mathematical  point:  it  has- 

a  beginning   and   an  ending.     Further,  its 

^ _^^_^_^  beginning  does  not  appear  to  us  as  an  abso- 

at  a  certain  distance  in  time,  so  that  memory  ^  lute  beginning:  it  is  in  contact  with  some- 


given  as  simply  existent:  the  secondary  states 
of  consciousness  superadded  to  it,  and  which 
consist  of  relations  and  judgments,  localize  it 


may  be  defined  seeing  in  time- 

This  operation  which,  for  clearness'  sake 
we  have  thus  roughly  described,  must  now 
be  studied'more  closely  and  in  detail. 

The  theoretical  explanation  of  localization 
in  time  starts  from  the  law  formulated  by 
Dugald  Stewart,  and  so  well  explained  by 
Taine,*  that  the  acts  of  the  imagination  are 
always  accompanied  by  a  belief,  at  least  mo- 
mentary, in  the  actual  existence  of  the  object 
to  which  they  relate.  This  belief,  which  is. 
most  pronounced  in  hallucination,  in  vertigo 
and  in  dreaming  (because  there  are  no  actual 
perceptions  to  correct  it)  exists,  though  in  a 
less  degree,  with  respect  to  all  states  of  con- 
sciousness whatever.  I  say  nothing  here  of 
the  mechanism  by  which  the  state  of  con- 
sciousness is  stripped  of  its  objective  reality 
and  reduced  to  a  simple  conception  of  the 
mind.  On  this  point  I  refer  the  reader  to 
the  explanations  offered  by  Taine.  f 

Still  this  is  not  a  recollection. 


hatever  it  may  stand  for — a  house, 


*  "  On  Intelligence."     In  this  work  will  be  found  a 
collection  of  facts  which  leave  no  doubt  on  this  point. 
tOp.  Cit.,  particularly  Part  II,  Book  i,  th.  ii. 


thing  with  which  it  is  continuous.  When  we 
read  or  hear  a  sentence,  there  remains  at  the 
utterance  of  the  fifth  word,  for  example, 
something  of  the  fourth.  Each  state  of  con- 
sciousness is  effaced  only  by  degrees;  it 
leaves  a  trail  like  what,  in  physiological  op- 
tics, is  called  the  consecutive  image  (after- 
sensation,  Nachempfindung).  Thus,  then, 
the  fourth  and  the  fifth  words  are  continuous 
— the  end  of  one  being  in  contact  with  the 
beginning  of  the  other.  This  is  the  main 
point.  There  is  a  contiguity,  not  indefinite, 
meaning  that  any  two  ends  are  in  contact, 
but  jsuch  a  contiguity  that  the  begiuuhig-ol 
the  actual  state  of  consciousness  is  in  contact. 
with  the  ending  of  the  state  that  preceded  it. 
This  simple  fact  once  clearly  apprehended, 
we  have  the  theoretical  mechanism  of  locali- 
zation in  time,  for  it  is  plain  that  the  retro- 
grade movement  may  also  be  made  from  the 
fourth  word  to  the  third,  and  so  on ;  and  that 
each  state  of  consciousness  having  its  own 
duration-quantity,  the  number  of  states  of 
consciousness  thus  traversed  regressively, 
and  their  duration-quantities  give  the  position 
of  any  given  state  relatively  to  the  present 


12 


THE   DISEASES   OF    MEMORY. 


moment — its  distance  in  time.  Such  is  the 
theoretical  mechanism  of  localization;  a  re- 
trogression which,  starting  from  the  pres- 
ent, traverses  a  longer  or  shorter  series  of 
terms. 

^Tactically,  we  have  recourse  to  simpler 
and  more  expeditious  processes.  We  very 
rarely  perform  this  retrogression  through  all 
•of  the  intermediate  terms  of  the  series,  sel- 
dom even  through  the  greater  part  of  them. 
We  simplify  the  operation  by  the  employment 
of  reference  points. 

I  take  a  familiar  example  to  illustrate:  On 
•the  3oth  of  November  I  am  expecting  a  book 
I  greatly  need.  It  comes  from  a  distance, 
and  cannot  arrive  in  less  than  twenty  days 
from  the  time  of  ordering  it.  Did  I  order  it 
early  enough  ?  After  trying  in  many  ways  to 
fix  the  date,  I  remember  that  I  ordered  the 
book  on  the  day  before  I  set  out  on  a  little 
journey,  and  the  date  of  that  I  can  determine 
precisely  as  Sunday,  November  gth.  The 
recollection  is  now  perfect.  If  we  analyze 
this  case,  we  shall  ste  that  the  principal  state 
•of  consciousness — ordering  the  book — was  at 
first  something  referred  indefinitely  to  the 
past.  It  calls  up  secondary  states,  and  com- 
pared with  these,  it  is  seen  to  precede  some, 
to  be  subsequent  to  others.  "The  image," 
says  Taine,  "glides  to  and  fro  on  the  line  of 
the  past;  each  of  the  phrases  pronounced 
mentally  has  given  it  a  new  oscillation."*  At 
last  it  finds  its  place;  it  is  now  fixed,  known. 
In  this  illustration  the  recollection  of  the  jour- 
ney is  what  I  call  a  reference  point.  By  ref- 
erence point  I  mean  any  occurrence,  any 
state  of  consciousness  whose  position  in  time 
•we  know,  i.  e.,  its  distance  with  respect  to 
the  present  moment,  and  which  serves  as  a 
measure  of  other  distances  in  time.  These 
reference  points  are  states  of  .consciousness 
which,  from  their  intensity,  withstand  oblivion 
better  than  others,  or  which  from  their  com- 
plexity are  adapted  to  call  up  many  associa- 
tions and  to  increase  the  chances  of  revivis- 
•cence.  They  are  not  selected  arbitrarily, 
but  force  themselves  upon  us.  Their  value 
is  purely  relative.  They  retain  this  character 
for  a  day,  a  week,  a  month;  but  then,  not 
coming  into  use,  they  are  forgotten.  As  a 
rule  they  are  purely  individual  in  character, 
though  some  of  them  are  common  to  a  family, 
to  a  small  community,  to  a  nation.  If  I  am 
not  mistaken,  they  constitute  for  each  indi- 
vidual different  series  answering  pretty  close- 
ly to  the  different  occurrences  that  make  up 
his  life — his  daily  occupations,  family  events, 
professional  occupations,  scientific  researches, 
etc.,  these  series  being  more  numerous  in 
proportion  as  the  life  of  the  individual  is 
more  diversified.  These  reference  points  are 
like  milestones  set  up  on  highways  which, 
starting  from  one  point  diverge  in  various 
•directions.  But  they  possess  this  peculiarity, 


*Taine,  "  On  Intelligence,"  Part  II,  Book  i,  ch. 
II,  §  vi.  A  ^ood  analysis  of  this  mental  operation  is 
•given  by  Tame. 


that  these  series  may,  as  it  were,  come  into 
juxtaposition  so  as  to  be  compared. 

We  have  now  to  show  how  these  reference 
points  enable  us  to  simplify  the  mechanism 
of  localization.  Th«  event  which  we  call  a 
reference  point,  since,  according  to  the  hy- 
pothesis, it  comes  very  often  into  conscious- 
ness, is  very  often  compared  to  the  present 
as  regards  its  position  in  time — in  other 
words,  the  states  intermediate  between  the 
two  and  separating  them,  are  called  up  with 
greater  or  less  distinctness.  The  result  is 
that  the  position  of  the  reference  point 
is,  or  seems  to  be  (and  we  shall  later  see 
that  every  recollection  implies  an  illusion) 
better  and  better  known.  By  repetition  this 
localization  becomes  immediate,  instantane- 
ous, automatic.  It  is  like  the  forming  of  a 
habit.  The  intermediate  points  disappear, 
being  of  no  use:  the  series  is  reduced  to  two 
terms,  and  these  two  terms  suffice,  because 
their  distance  from  each  other  in  time  is 
known.  Were  it  not  for  this  short  cut,  the 
vast  number  of  intermediate  terms  being  dis- 
regarded, localization  in  time  would  be  a 
very  lengthy  and  difficult  process,  restricted 
within  narrow  limits.  But  by  the  aid  of  this, 
so  soon  as  an  image  appears,  its  primary  lo- 
calization is  instantaneous:  it  stands  between 
two  fixed  points,  namely,  the  present  moment 
and  some  reference  point.  The  operation 
is  completed  after  a  few  trials,  and  is  often 
laborious,  and  fruitless,  and  perhaps  never 
precise. 

If  the  reader  will  examine  his  own  recol- 
lections, he  will,  1  think,  raise  no  serious  ob- 
jection to  what  has  just  been  said.  Further, 
he  will  observe  how  close  is  the  resemblance 
between  the  process  here  employed,  and  that 
whereby  we  localize  objects  in  space.  In  the 
latter  case  also  we  have  reference  points, 
short  cuts,  and  distances  fully  ascertained, 
which  we  employ  as  units  of  measurement. 

A  few  words  may  also  be  devoted,  not 
without  profit,  to  showing  that  localiza- 
tion in  the  future  is  effected  by  a  similar 
process.  Our  knowledge  of  the  future  can- 
not be  anything  but  a  repetition  of  the  past. 
Here  I  find  only  two  categories  of  facts. 
They  are  either  a  mere  reproduction  of  what 
has  already  occurred  at  similar  epochs  in  the 
same  places,  under  the  same  circumstances; 
or  they  consist  of  inductions,  deductions  and 
conclusions  drawn  from  the  past,  but  pro- 
duced by  the  logical  working  of  the  mind. 
Outside  of  these  two  categories  everything  is 
possible,  but  everything  is  unknown. 

Plainly  the  first  of  these  classes  of  facts  is 
the  one  that  most  closely  resembles  memory, 
for  it  involves  simply  the  reproduction  of 
what  has  been.  Suppose  a  man  has  been 
wont  every  year  to  pass  the  month  of  Sep- 
tember in  a  country  house.  In  the  depth  of 
winter  he  sees  it  with  its  surroundings,  its 
inmates,  its  daily  routine.  The  image  is  at 
first  indeterminate:  it  belongs  equally  to  the 
past  and  to  the,  future.  First,  it  separate* 


THE   DISEASES   OF    MEMORY. 


itself  from  the  present:  then  it  glides  past 
winter,  spring  and  summer;  at  last  it  becomes 
localized.  The  course  of  the  year,  with  its 
succession  of  seasons,  holidays,  changes  of 
occupation,  supplies  reference  points.  This 
process  differs  from  memory  only  in  one  re- 
spect, namely,  that  here  we  pass  from  the 
terminal  limit  of  the  present,  to  the  initial 
limit  of  the  following  state:  we  do  not  pro- 
ceed, as  in  recollecting,  from  the  beginning 
of  one  state  of  consciousness  to  the  end- 
ing of  another,  but  from  an  ending  to  a 
beginning.  In  this  unchanging  order  we 
traverse,  theoretically,  all  the  intermediate 
states  of  consciousness,  but  practically  we 
traverse  only  a  few  landmarks.  The  process 
is  accordingly  the  same  as  in  memory,  only 
it  works  in  the  reverse  direction. 

In  short,  setting  aside  verbal  explanations, 
we  find  that  "  recollection  "  is  no  "  faculty" 
at  all  but  a  fact,  and  that  this  fact  is  the  re- 
sult of  a  sum  of  conditions.  Hence,  "re- 
collection " — localization  in  time — varies  with 
these  conditions  through  all  possible  grades. 
In  the  highest  grade  are  the  reference  points; 
next  below  these  are  vivid,  well  defined  re- 
collections, referred  to  their  place  in  time 
past  almost  as  quickly;  then  those  that  in- 
volve some  hesitation,  and  require  an  appre- 
ciable time;  lower  still,  labored  recollections 
that  take  definite  shape  only  after  effort  and 
resort  to  stratagem;  last  of  all  come  .those 
cases  where  all  effort  fails,  and  our  indecision 
is  expressed  in  such  phrases  as,  "  It  seems  to 
me  that  I  have  seen  this  form;"  "have  I 
seen  this  in  a  dream  ?"  One  step  further, 
and  localization  fails  altogether:  the  image, 
stript  of  its  defining  circumstances  possesses 
nothing  by  which  it  can  be  definitely  referred 
to  any  fixed  time.  There  are  many  examples 
of  this  last  case  and  they  are  to  be  found 
where  we  should  least  expect  them.  From 
the  effects  of  disease  or  of  old  age,  cele- 
brated authors  sometimes  forget  their  own 
writings.  Linn6,  toward  the  close  of  his 
life,  took  pleasure  in  reading  his  own  works, 
and  would  exclaim,  as  he  read,  forgetting 
that  he  was  himself  the  author:  "  Beautiful  ! 
I  wish  I  had  written  that."  The  like  is  told 
of  Newton  and  the  discovery  of  the  differ- 
ential calculus.  Walter  Scott  as  he  grew 
old  was  subject  to  this  kind  of  forgetfulness. 
One  day  a  poem  was  read  to  him  which  gave 
him  pleasure,  and  he  asked  who  was  the 
author.  It  was  a  canto  from  his  "  Pirate." 
Ballantyne,  who  was  his  secretary  and  who 
wrote  his  life,  relates  in  minute  detail  how 
the  greater  part  of  "  Ivanhoe"  was  dictated 
during  a  painful  illness.  It  was  completed 
and  published  before  its  author  had  quit  his 
bed.  He  had  no  recollections  of  it  beyond 
the  central  idea  of  the  story,  which  had  ante- 
dated his  illness. 

In  a  case  cited  by  Forbes  Winslow,  the 
image  seems  to  be  just  on  the  point  of  being 
recognized,  localized,  but  it  falls  short : 
' '  The  poet  Rogers,  when  ninety  years  of 


age,  was  out  driving  with  a  lady.  She  in- 
quired of  him  about  another  lady  whom  he- 
could  not  recollect.  He  pulled  the  check- 
string  and  appealed  to  his  servant.  '  Do  I 
know  Lady  M.?'  The  reply  was  'Yes  sir/ 
This  was  a  painful  moment  to  us  both.  Tak- 
ing my  hand,  he  said:  '  Never  mind,  my 
dear.  I  am  not  yet  compelled  to  stop  the 
carriage  and  ask  if  I  know  you.'  "  * 

A  much  more  instructive  instance  is  re- 
corded by  Macaulay  in  his  essay  on  Wycher- 
ley.  Wycherley's  memory,  says  he,  was, 
toward  the  end  of  his  life,  at  once  exceed- 
ingly strong  and  exceedingly  weak.  If  any- 
thing was  read  to  him  in  the  evening  he 
would  awake  the  next  morning,  his  mind  full 
of  the  ideas  and  the  expressions  heard  the 
night  before.  He  would  write  them  out  ia 
perfect  good  faith,  not  doubting  that  they 
were  his  own.  Here  the  mechanism  of 
memory  is  plainly  cut  in  twain,  and  pathology 
gives  us  its  analysis.  Interpreting  this  case 
according  to  the  principles  stated  above,  we 
should  say  :  the  modification  impressed  upon 
the  brain- cells  persisted  ;  the  dynamic  associ- 
alions  of  the  nervous  elements  remained 
stable  ;  the  state  of  consciousness  attaching; 
to  each  was  awakened  ;  these  several  states 
of  consciousness  were  again  associated  and 
again  formed  into  series  (sentences  or  verses). 
But  there  the  mental  operations  suddenly- 
stopped.  These  series  did  not  awaken  any 
secondary  state  ;  they  remained  isolated,, 
without  any  relation  to  the  present,  without 
anything  to  fix  their  place  in  time.  They  re- 
mained as  mental  images,  and  they  appeared 
new,  because  no  concomitant  state  impressed 
on  them  the  stamp  of  the  past. 

So  far  is  localization  in  time  from  being  a 
simple,  primary,  instantaneous  act,  that  very 
often  it  requires  a  measurable  interval  even 
for  consciousness.  Where  it  appears  to  be 
instantaneous  its  rapidity  is  a  result  of  habit. 
The  eye,  too,  judges  of  the  distance  of  objects, 
and  it  is  probable  that  for  nascent  memory, 
as  for  nascent  vision,  localization  is  never 
instantaneous.  | 

Thus  then  we  have  discovered  in  the  high- 
est form  of  memory  only  one  new  operation — 
localization  in  time.  We  have  now  in  con- 
clusion to  show  the  relatively  illusory  char- 
acter of  this  operation. 


*  Laycock,  "  Personal  and  Organic  Memory:"  Car- 
penter, op.cit.,  p.  444  ;  Ballantyne,  "Life  of  Walter 
Scott";  Spring,  "  Symptomatologie,"  vol.  n,  p.  530; 
Forbes  Winslow,  op.  cit,  p.  247 

t  Note  also  what  happens  when  events  are  many- 
times  repeated.  I  have  made  the  journey  from  Paris 
to  Brest  a  hundred  times.  The  impressions  of  all 
these  journeys  overlie  each  other  in  my  mind,  forming 
a  confused  mass;  properly  speaking  they  constitute 
one  vague  image.  Among  them  all,  the  journeys  that 
are  associated  with  some  important  event,  whether 
fortunate  or  unfortunate,  alone  occur  to  me  as  recol- 
lections: only  those  which  awaken  secondary  states 
of  consciousness  are  localized  in  the  mind,  are  recog- 
nized. The  reader  will  observe  that  our  explanation 
of  the  mechanism  of  "recollections"  agrees  with 
that  given  in  Taine's  "  Intelligence,"  Part  a,  Book  i, 
chap  n,  §  6. 


14 


THE   DISEASES   OF    MEMORY. 


As  I  write  I  have  a  very  vivid  recollection 
of  a  v.b  c  I  made  a  year  ago  to  an  old  castle 
in  Bonemia.  The  visit  lasted  two  hours. 
To-dc.;  1  easily  make  it  over  again  in  imagir  - 
-ation  :  I  enter  at  the  great  doorway,  I  pass 
in  due  order  through  the  courts,  corridors, 
halls  and  chapels  as  they  rise  story  above 
story:  I  see  again  their  frescoes  and  their 
decorations  just  as  they  are  ;  I  make  my  way 
fairly  through  this  labyrinth  of  an  old  castle 
'down  to  the  moment  of  leaving,  but  I  am 
imable  to  fancy  the  duration  of  this  imaginary 
"visit  as  equal  in  length  to  the  two  hours  this 
moment  just  elapsed.  It  seems  much  shorter, 
and  the  difference  would  be  much  greater  if 
'the  two  hours  just  past  had  been  spent  in  an- 
-other  visit  of  the  same  kind,  or  in  some 
agreeable  company.  If  we  declare  the  two 
periods  to  be  of  equal  length  we  do  so  on  the 
•evidence  of  time-pieces  and  in  disregard  of 
the  evidence  of  our  consciousness. 

Every  recollection,  however  distinct,  suf- 
iers  an  enormous  amount  of  abridgement : 
this  fact  is  indisputable  and  has  no  exceptions. 
"Scientific  experiments  in  very  simple  cases, 
where  the  chances  of  error  are  inconsiderable, 
-confirm  this  law.  Vierordt  has  proved  that 
if  we  try  to  imagine  fractions  of  a  second  of 
time,  our  idea  of  any  given  fraction  is  always 
too  large:  the  reverse  holds  when  there  is 
••question  of  several  minutes  or  several  hours. 
In  order  to  study  the  duration  of  these  small 
intervals,  he  had  the  beats  of  a  metronome 
noted  for  some  time  by  a  person  who  was  re- 
•quired  afterward  to  repeat  the  beats  with 
the  same  rapidity.  In  the  repetition  the  in- 
terval between  the  beats  was  too  long  when 
the  original  interval  was  short,  and  too  short 
^when  the  original  interval  was  long.* 

In  proportion  to  the  complexity  of  the 
-states  of  consciousness  the  error  increases. 
And  what  adds  to  the  difficulty  is  the  fact 
that  this  does  not  take  place  according  to  any 
appreciable  law.  It  cannot  be  said  to  be  in 
proportion  to  the  length  of  time  that  may 
have  elapsed;  indeed  we  may  assert  the 
contrary.  If  I  were  to  represent  the  last  ten 
years  of  my  life  by  a  line  one  meter  in  length, 
the  year  just  past  would  occupy  three  or  four 
tenths  of  that  line;  the  fifth,  which  was 
crowded  with  events,  would  take  two-tenths; 
the  othar  eight  would  be  compressed  within 
the  remainder. 

The  same  illusion  is  seen  in  history.  Some 
•centuries  appear  longer  than  others,  and  if  I 
am  not  mistaken,  the  period  from  our  day 
back  to  the  taking  of  Constantinople  seems 
longer  than  the  period  from  that  event  back 
to  the  first  crusade,  though  the  two  periods 
are  very  nearly  equal  in  length  of  time.  This 
probably  results  from  the  fact  that  the  former 


*Vierordt,  "Der  Zeitsinn  nach  Versuchen."  36 — in. 
H.  Weber,  "Tastsinn  und  Gemeingefuhl,"  87,  has 
-made  analogous  experiments  on  visual  perceptions. 
See  also  "  Handbuch  der  Physiologic''  (.1879),  edited 
•by  Hermann,  vol.  II.  part  2,  p.  282. 


period  is  better  known  to  us,  and  that  in  it 
our  own  recollections  are  involved. 

As  the  present  merges  into  the  past,  our 
states  of  consciousness  disappear  and  are 
obliterated.  Reviewed  after  the  lapse  of  a 
few  days,  little  or  nothing  of  these  remains  ; 
most  of  them  have  vanished  into  nothing- 
ness, never  to  be  recalled,  and  they  have 
taken  with  them  the  quantity  of  duration  in- 
herent in  them  ;  consequently  an  effacement 
of  states  of  consciousness  is  an  effacement  of 
time.  Now  the  "  short  cuts"  processes  already 
spoken  of  presuppose  this  effacement.  If, 
in  order  to  recollect  something  in  the  distant 
past  we  had  to  go  over  the  whole  series  of 
terms  between  now  and  then,  memory  were 
impossible,  owing  to  the  length  of  time  the 
operation  would  require.* 

Thus  we  reach  the  paradoxical  result  that 
forgetf ulness  is  a  condition  of  memory.  Were 
it  not  for  our  totally  forgetting  a  vast  number 
of  states  of  consciousness  and  momentarily 
forgetting  a  great  many,  we  could  not  re- 
collect anything.  Forgetfulness  therefore  is 
not,  except  in  certain  cases,  a  disease  of 
memory,  but  rather  one  condition  of  its 
healthful  action  and  of  its  life.  In  this  we 
find  a  striking  analogy  with  the  two  great 
vital  processes.  To  live  is  to  gain  and  to 
lose  ;  life  consists  as  much  in  the  work  that 
eliminates  as  in  that  which  assimilates.  For- 
getfulness is  elimination. 

A  second  result  (and  this  brings  us  back 
again  to  the  functions  of  vision)  is  that  our 
knowledge  of  the  past  is  like  a  painting  with 
perspective  reaching  far  into  the  distance,  at 
once  deceptive  and  true,  for  its  truth  is  based 
on  illusion.  If  on  an  hypothesis  that  never 
will  be  realized  we  could  compare  our  actual 
past  as  it  was,  set  objectively  before  us,  with 
the  subjective  representation  of  the  same 
furnished  to  us  by  memory,  we  should  see  that 
this  copy  is  constructed  on  a  particular  sys- 
tem of  projection  ;  each  of  us  readily  finds 
his  bearings  in  this  system,  for  it  is  of  his 
own  making. 

IV. 

Thus  we  have  reached,  step  by  step,  the 
highest  development  of  memory ;  we  will 
now  follow  the  inverse  order  and  come  again 
back  to  our  starting-point.  This  return  is 
necessary,  in  order  to  show  a  second  time 
that  memory  is  a  process  of  organization  in 


*Abercrombie,  in  his  "  Intellectual  Powers,"  men- 
tions a  circumstance  which  confirms  what  is  here 
said :  "  The  late  Dr.  Leyden  was  remarkable  for  his 
memory.  I  am  informed,  through  a  gentlemen  who 
was  intimately  acquainted  with  him,  that  he  could 
repeat  correctly  a  long  Act  of  Parliament,  or  any 
similar  document,  after  having  once  read  it  When 
he  was,  on  one  occasion,  congratulated  by  a  frie_nd 
for  his  remarkable  power  in  this  respect,  he  replied 
that,  instead  of  an  advantage,  it  was  often  a  sourc* 
of  great  inconvenience.  This  he  explained  by  saying 
that,  when  he  wished  to  recollect  any  particular 
point,  in  anything  which  he  had  read,  he  could  do  it 
only  by  repeating  to  himself  the  whole  from  the  com- 
mencement till  he  reached  the  point  which  h« 
wished  to  recall." 


THE    DISEASES   OF   MEMORY. 


15 


varying  degrees  between  two  extreme  limits, 
namely,  a  new  state  and  organic  registration. 

There  is  no  form  of  mental  activity  that 
bears  witness  more  effectively  in  favor  of  the 
theory  of  evolution:  from  that  point  of  view, 
and  from  that  alone,  can  we  understand  the 
nature  of  memory;  and  it  is  seen  that  the 
study  of  memory  must  be  not  only  a  study  in 
physiology,  but  also  in  morphology,  i.  e.  a 
history  of  its  transformations. 

Let  us  then  take  up  the  question  where  we 
'eft  it.  A  new  mental  acquisition  more  or 
less  complex  is  revived  for  the  first  or  for  the 
tecond  time.  Such  recollections  are  the  most 
instable  of  the  elements  of  memory — so  in- 
stable  that  many  of  them  vanish  for  good; 
such  are  most  of  the  occurrences  that  happen 
to  us  daily  and  hourly.  However  clear, 
however  intense,  they  have  a  minimum  of 
organization.  But  every  time  they  return  to 
the  mind,  whether  voluntarily  or  involuntarily, 
they  gain  in  stability — their  tendency  to  be- 
come organized  grows  stronger. 

Below  this  group  of  fully  conscious  and 
unorganized  recollections  stands  the  group 
of  conscious  and  semi-organized  recollections; 
for  example  a  language  we  are  by  degrees  learn- 
ing, a  scientific  theory  or  a  handicraft  that 
we  have  only  half  mastered.  Here  the 
strongly  individual  character  of  the  first 
group  disappears,  and  the  recollection  be- 
comes more  and  more  impersonal — becomes 
objective.  The  localization  in  time  disap- 
pears, being  useless.  Here  and  there  a  few 
isolated  terms  carry  with  them  personal  im- 
pressions which  localize  them.  I  remember 
.having  learned  such  a  German  or  English 
word  in  such  a  town,  or  under  such  circum- 
stances. It  is  a  survival,  a  mark  of  a  prior 
state,  an  original  impress.  Little  by  little  it 
is  effaced,  and  the  term  assumes  the  same 
commonplace  and  impersonal  character  as 
all  other  terms. 

This  knowledge  of  a  science,  a  language,  a 
handicraft  becomes  more  and  more  rooted. 
It  retreats  by  degrees  from  the  psychic  sphere, 
and  becomes  more  and  more  like  an  organic 
memory.  Such,  in  the  case  of  an  adult  per- 
son, is  his  memory  of  his  mother  tongue. 

One  step  lower,  and  we  come  to  memory 
completely  organized  and  nearly  unconscious, 
as  seen  in  the  clever  musician,  the  skilled 
mechanic,  the  accomplished  danseuse.  Never- 
theless, all  this  was  once  memory  in  the 
strict  and  ordinary  sense  of  the  word — fully 
conscious  memory. 

We  may  go  lower  still.  The  exercise  of 
every  one  of  our  senses  (of  sight,  of  touch  ; 
in  walking,  etc.),  presupposes  a  completely 
organized  memory  ;  but  so  incorporated  is  it 
in  our  nature  that  most  persons  never  sus- 
pect it  to  be  acquired.  The  same  can  be 
said  of  many  of  our  habitual  judgments.  No 
one  remembers  that  the  object  at  which  he  is 
looking  has  an  opposite  side;  or  that  a  cer- 
tain modification  of  the  visual  impression 
implies  a  certain  distance;  or  that  a  certain 


motion  of  the  legs  will  move  him  forward;  or 
that  the  thing  which  he  sees  moving  about  is  » 
live  animal.  It  would  be  thought  a  misuse  ot 
language  were  anyone  to  ask  another  whetbet 
he  remembered  that  the  sun  shines,  that  fire 
burns,  that  iron  is  hard,  and  that  ice  is  cold.* 
Nevertheless,  all  this,  we  repeat,  was  once 
memory  in  the  strict  sense,  in  a  nascent  in- 
telligence. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  add  that  the  forego- 
ing is  a  purely  ideal  sketch,  a  schematism. 
It  were  vain  to  endeavor  to  define  with  pre- 
cision the  several  stages  of  an  evolution  that 
proceeds  by  infinitesimal  transitions  varying 
according  to  the  individual. 

Can  we  go  further  still  ?  We  might.  Be- 
low the  composite  reflex  actions  which  repre- 
sent organic  memory  in  its  lowest  phase  we 
have  simple  reflex  actions.  We  may  conceive 
the  latter — which  are  the  result  of  a  congen- 
ital anatomical  arrangement — as  being  them- 
selves acquired  and  made  fixed  by  innumera- 
ble experiences  in  the  course  of  the  evolution 
of  species.  Thus  we  should  pass  from  the 
memory  of  the  individual  organism  (individ- 
ual memory)  to  heredity,  which  is  the  mem- 
ory of  the  species  (specific  memory).  It  is 
enough  to  simply  refer  to  this  hypothesis. 

In  fine  it  is  impossible  to  say  where  mem- 
ory, whether  psychic  or  organic,  ends.  That 
which  we  designate  by  the  collective  name, 
memory,  comprises  series  exhibiting  all  de- 
grees of  organization,  from  the  nascent  to 
the  perfect  state.  There  is  incessant  transi- 
tion from  the  stable  to  the  instable;  from 
the  state  of  consciousness,  where  acquisition 
is  precarious,  to  the  organic  state,  where  ac- 
quisition is  assured.  In  consequence  of  this 
steady  tendency  toward  organization,  a  degree 
of  simplification  and  order  is  given  to  the 
contents  of  memory  which  makes  a  higher 
form  of  thought  possible.  But  the  tendency 
to  organization,  left  to  itself,  without  a  check, 
would  tend  to  the  progressive  annihilation 
of  consciousness;  would  reduce  man  to  an 
automaton. 

Suppose — though  the  hypothesis  is  one 
that  cannot  be  realized — suppose  an  adult 
human  being  placed  in  such  conditions  that 
he  has  no  more  new  states  of  consciousness — 
no  new  sensations,  ideas,  concepts,  senti- 
ments, or  desires:  the  different  series  of 
states  of  consciousness  which  constitute  each 
form  of  psychic  activity  would  at  last  be- 
come so  well  organized  as  to  make  him  a. 
hardly  conscious  automaton.  Narrow  minds 
that  always  move  in  the  same  ruts  reduce 
this  hypothesis  to  a  reality  in  some  degree. 
Restricted  within  a  narrow  sphere,  they  have 
very  little  contact  with  what  is  new  and 
strange,  and  hence  tend  toward  the  state  of 
perfect  stability ;  they  become  mere  machines; 
so  far  as  the  greater  part  of  their  life  is  con. 
cerned,  consciousness  is  superfluous. 


*  Herbert  Spencer,  "Psychology,"  Part  IV.. 
vi.,  §  192. 


THE   DISEASES   OF   MEMORY. 


Having  considered  the  subject  in  all  its 
aspects,  we  revert  to  the  proposition  stated  at 
the  ouiset,  viz. :  conscious  memory  is  only  a 
special  phase  of  biological  memory.  We 
may  now,  by  recourse  to  another  class  of  con- 
siderations, show  once  more  that  memory  is 
subject  to  the  fundamental  conditions  of  life. 

All  forms  of  memory,  from  the  highest  to 
the  lowest,  have  for  their  ground  work  dynamic 
associations  between  the  nerve  elements,  and 
special  modifications  of  these  elements,  at 
least  of  the  cells.  These  modifications,  re- 
sulting from  a  first  'impression,  are  retained 
by  no  inert  matter — they  do  not  resemble  the 
impress  of  a  seal  on  wax.  They  are  im- 
pressed upon  living  matter.  Now  all  living 
tissues  are  ever  in  process  of  molecular  re- 
newal, nerve  tissue  more  than  any  other,  and 
in  nerve  tissue  the  grey  substance  more  than 
the  white,  as  is  proved  by  the  extraordinary 
abundance  of  bloodvessels  pervading  it. 
Now,  since  the  modifications  persist,  it  fol- 
lows that  the  arrangement  of  the  molecules 
of  new-formed  tissue  must  exactly  reproduce 
the  type  of  the  effete  molecules  to  which  they 
succeed.  Memory  is  directly  dependent  on 
nutrition. 

But  not  only  have  these  cells  the  property 
of  self-nutrition:  they  also  possess,  at  least 
during  a  portion  of  their  life,  the  power  of 
reproduction,  and  we  shall  later  see  how  this 
fact  accounts  for  certain  cases  of  the  re- 
establishment  of  memory.  All  physiologists 
hold  this  reproduction  to  be  simply  a  form  of 
nutrition:  therefore  the  basis  of  memory  is 
nutrition — the  vital  process  par  excellence. 

For  the  present  I  will  not  dwell  upon  this 
point.  After  we  have  considered  the  disor- 
ders of  memory,  its  exalted  and  its  depressed 
states,  its  momentary  suspension,  its  eclipse 
and  sudden  return,  its  progressive  impair- 
ment, we  may  return  to  the  question  with 
advantage:  the  capital  importance  of  nutri- 
tion will  then  be  self  evident.  Hitherto  we 
have  been  occupied  with  the  preliminaries  of 
our  subject — memory  in  its  healthy  state;  it 
is  time  to  study  it  in  the  morbid  state.  The 
pathology  of  memory  is  the  complement  of 
its  physiology;  we  shall  see  whether  it  lends 
confirmation  to  it. 


CHAPTER  II. 

GENERAL   AMNESIA. 

Classification  of  the  diseases  oj  memory—'  Tem- 
porary amnesia — Epileptics — Forgetfulness 
of  certain  periods  of  life — Examples  of  re- 
education— Slow  and  sudden  recoveries — 
Case  of  provisional  memory — Periodical  or 
intermittent  amnesia — Formation  of  two 
memories,  totally  or  partially  distinct — 
Cases  of  hypnotism  recorded  by  Macnish, 
Azam  and  Du fay — Progressive  amnesia- 
Its  importance;  reveals  the  law  which  gov- 


erns the  destruction  of  memory — Law  of  re- 
gression; enunciation  of  this  law — In  who* 
order  memory  fails — Counter-proof ' ;  it  is 
reconstituted  in  inverse  order — Confirmatory 
facts —  Congen ita I  am nesia — Extraordina ry 
memory  of  some  idiots. 

Material  for  the  study  of  the  diseases  of 
memory  is  found  scattered  through  medical 
works,  treatises  on  mental  diseases,  and  the 
writings  of  divers  psychologists.  It  may  be 
brought  together  without  overmuch  labor,  and 
then  we  have  at  hand  a  sufficient  store  of 
observations.  The  difficulty  is  to  classify,  to 
interpret,  to  draw  conclusions  as  to  the  mech- 
anism of  memory.  In  this  respect  the 
facts  gleaned  are  of  very  unequal  worth ;  the 
most  extraordinary  ones  are  not  the  most  in- 
structive. The  physicians  to  whom  we  aie 
indebted  for  most  of  them  have  described  them 
almost  exclusively  with  reference  to  their  own 
art.  In  their  eyes  a  disorder  of  memory  is  but 
a  symptom,  and  they  note  it  as  such ;  it  is  of 
use  as  a  guide  in  diagnosis  or  prognosis .  So 
with  regard  to  classification ;  they  content 
themselves  with  a  reference  of  each  case  of 
amnesia  to  the  morbid  state  whose  effect  it  is 
-- brain  soitening,  hemorrhage,  concussion,  etc. 
For  our  purpose,  on«the  other  hand,  the 
diseases  of  memory  must  be  studied  in  them- 
selves as  morbid  psychic  states  which  may 
enable  us  the  better  to  understand  the  nor- 
mal state.  As  for  classification  we  must 
needs  ground  it  upon  likenesses  and  differ- 
ences. The  subject  has  not  yet  been  suffi- 
ciently studied  to  attempt  a  natural  classifica- 
tion, i.  e.,  by  causes;  I  would  therefore  remark 
that  the  classification  here  offered  is  designed 
simply  for  the  purpose  of  reducing  to  some- 
thing like  order  a  confused  and  heterogeneous 
mass  of  facts ;  that  in  many  respects  it  is 
arbitrary,  I  am  free  to  confess. 

Disorders  of  memory  may  be  restricted  to  one 
single  class  of  recollections,  all  the  rest  remain- 
ing int  ict,  at  least  apparently  ;  these  are  partial 
disorders.  Others,  on  the  contrary,  affect  the 
entira  memory  in  all  its  forms  ;  cut  the  mental 
life  in  twain  or  break  it  up  into  many  frag- 
ments ;  or  destroy  it  utterly  by  agencies  that 
work  step  by  step :  these  are  general  disorders. 
We  thus  recognize,  in  the  first  place,  two 
great  classes,  the  general  and  the  partial  dis- 
eases of  memory.  The  former  alone  will  be 
considered  in  this  chapter.  We  propose  to 
consider  them  under  the  following  heads:  1. 
Temporary  Amnesia ;  2.  Periodic  Amnesia  ;  3. 
Progressive  Amnesia,  least  curious  of  all,  but 
most  instructive ;  4.  Congenital  Amnesia. 

A. 

Temporary  amnesia  usually  comes  suddenly 
and  disappears  in  the  same  way.  It  lasts  for  a 
period  of  time  that  may  vary  from  five  inimutes 
to  years.  The  briefest  and  clearest  cases,  as 
ilso  the  most  common,  occur  in  epilepsy. 


THE   DISEASES  OF   MEMORY. 


17 


Physicians  are  not  agreed  either  as  to  the 
nature,  the  seat  or  the  causes  of  this  disease. 
The  problem  does  not  belong  to  our  subject, 
nor  is  it  within  our  province.  Suffice  it  to 
say  that  authors  with  one  accord  recognize 
three  forms  of  the  disease:  "grand  mal," 
"petit  mal,"  and  vertigo  ;  that  they  regard 
these  less  as  distinct  varieties  than  as  degrees 
of  the  same  morbid  state  ;  finally,  that  the 
milder  the  disease  in  its  external  manifesta- 
tion, the  graver  its  effects  on  themind.  The 
fit  is  succeeded  by  mental  derangement  which 
may  betray  itself  by  oddities  and  absurd 
acts,  or  by  crimes.  All  these  acts  possess  a 
common  character  called  by  Hughlings  Jack- 
son mental  atttomatism.  They  leave  no  re- 
collection, save  in  rare  cases,  where  a  few 
faint  traces  of  memory  remain. 

A  patient  while  advising  with  his  physician 
is  seized  with  epileptic  vertigo.  He  recovers 
immediately,  but  forgets  that  he  paid  the  fee 
a  moment  before  the  attack.*  A  clerk  finds 
himself  seated  at  his  desk,  his  thoughts 
slightly  confused,  but  otherwise  without  ail- 
ment. He  remembers  having  ordered  dinner 
at  a  restaurant,  but  from  that  moment  for- 
ward he  has  no  recollection  of  anything.  He 
goes  back  to  the  restaurant,  and  there  learns 
that  he  has  eaten  dinner  and  paid  the  bill, 
and  that  he  left  for  his  office  without  appear- 
ing to  be  ill.  In  this  instance  memory  was 
in  abeyance  for  about  three  quarters  of  an 
hour.  Another  epileptic,  seized  with  a  fit  in 
a  shop,  falls  to  the  floor,  rises  again,  and 
runs  away  leaving  behind  his  hat  and  note- 
book. "  I  was  found,  "said  he  "  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  away;  I  inquired  for  my  hat  in  all  the 
shops,  but  I  was  unconscious  of  what  I  was 
doing,  and  did  not  come  to  myself  again  till 
ten  minutes  later,  when  I  reached  the  rail- 
road." Trousseau  relates  the  case  of  a 
magistrate  who,  while  attending  a  meeting  of 
a  learned  society  in  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  Paris, 
went  out  bare-headed,  walked  as  far  as  the 
Quai,  and  returned  to  his  place  to  join  in  the 
discussions,  without  any  recollection  of  what 
he  had  done. 

Oftentimes  the  patient  keeps  on  perform- 
ing, during  the  period  of  automatism  the 
acts  in  which  he  may  have  been  engaged  at 
the  moment  of  the  attack,  or  he  comments 
upon  something  he  may  have  been  reading. 
Instances  of  this  were  given  in  the  preceding 
chapter.  Nothing  is  more  common  than  un- 
availing attempts  at  suicide,  but  when  the  fit 
of  epileptic  vertigo  has  passed  there  is  no  recol- 
lection of  them  whatever.  The  same  is  true 
with  regard  to  criminal  attempts.  A  shoe- 
maker seized  with  epileptic  mania  on  his  wed- 
ding day,  killed  his  father-in-law  by  stabbing 
him  with  his  knife.  Coming  to  his  senses  a 


*  The  facts  here  cited  are  taken  for  the  most  part 
from  a  memoir  by  Dr.  H.  Jackson,  published  in  the 
H^est  Riding  Asylum  Review^  and  from  an  article 
by  Falret  on  the  mental  state  of  epileptics,  in  the 
Archives  de  Midecine,  December,  1860,  April  and 
October,  1861. 


few  days  afterward,  he  hail  not  the  faintest 
suspicion  of  what  he  had  .'one. 

From  these  examples  the  reader  may  get  a 
better  understanding  of  the  nature  of  epi- 
leptic amnesia  than  from  any  general  de- 
scription of  it.  A  certain  period  of  mental 
activity  is  as  though  it  had  never  been.  The 
epileptic  knows  of  it  only  from  the  testi- 
mony of  others,  or  from  vague  conjectures. 
Such  is  the  fact.  As  for  its  psychological 
interpretation,  there  are  two  possible  hy. 
potheses. 

Either  (i)  the  period  of  mental  automatism 
was  unaccompanied  by  consciousness,  and  in 
that  case  the  amnesia  needs  no  explanation,  foi 
as  nothing  was  produced,  so  nothing  can  be 
retained  or  reproduced  ;  or  (2)  there  was  con- 
sciousness, but  so  faint  that  amnesia  ensues. 
This  second  hypothesis  I  believe  to  be  the 
true  one  in  a  great  many  instances. 

In  the  first  place,  as  a  matter  simply  of  rea 
soning,  it  is  difficult  to  see  how  very  complex 
acts  adapted  to  different  ends  can  be  per- 
formed without  some  measure  of  conscious- 
ness at  least  intermittent.  Be  the  force  of  habit 
as  great  as  you  please,  it  must  for  all  that  be 
remembered  that  it  where  uniformity  of  ac- 
tion exists  consciousness  tends  to  disappear; 
on  the  other  hand,  it  tends  to  manifest  itself 
wherever  there  is  diversity  of  action. 

But  reasoning  can  give  only  possibilities; 
experience  alone  is  decisive.  Now  there  are 
facts  which  go  to  prove  the  existence  of  a 
certain  measure  of  consciousness  even  in  the 
exceedingly  numerous  cases  where  the  epi- 
leptic retains  no  remembrance  of  his  parox- 
ysm. "  Some  epileptics,  on  being  questioned 
abruptly  and  in  a  commanding  tone,  reply  in 
a  low  and  plaintive  voice.  When  the  attack 
has  passed,  they  recollect  neither  what  has  been 
said  to  them  nor  what  they  have  themselves 
answered.  .  .  '  .  A  child,  forced  during 
an  at  tack  to  inhale  ether  or  ammonia,  the 
odor  of  which  was  to  it  unbearable,  would 
angrily  cry  out,  '  go  away,  go  away! '  When 
the  fit  was  over,  the  patient  had  no  recollec- 
tion of  these  occurrences.  .  .  .  Some- 
j  times  epileptics  contrive,  after  much  effort, 
I  to  recall  sundry  occurrences  that  took 
!  place  during  the  paroxysms,  particularly  those 
of  the  last  few  moments  of  the  seizure. 
In  that  case  they  are  in  a  situa- 
tion comparable  to  that  of  one  awakening 
out  of  a  distressing  dream.  At  first  the  main 
circumstances  of  the  attack  escape  them,  and 
they  disclaim  all  knowledge  of  the  acts  im- 
puted to  them;  but  little  by  little  they  recall 
sundry  details  which  at  first  they  seemed  to 
have  forgotten."* 

If  in  these  cases  circumstances  go  to  prore 
that  consciousness  existed,  it  is  not  rash  ic 
assert  its  existence  in  many  other  cases.  5^;1 
I  do  not  mean  to  assert  that  this  holds  fora?? 
cases.  The  mag'strate  mentioned  above  d*- 
reeled  his  steps  with  sufficient  discretion  to 


"Trousseau, ''  Lecons  Climques."'  VoLII.;  p.  114. 


18 


THE   DISEASES  OF   MEMORY. 


aroid  obstacles  vehicles  and  passers-by,  and  | 
this  indicates  a  certain  consciousness  ;  but  in 
a  similar  case  iwntioned  by  Hughlings  Jack- 
son, the  patient  was  thrown  down  by  an  om- 
nibus, and  on  another  occasion  came  near 
falling  into  the  Thames 

How  then  are  we  to  explain  amnesia  in 
cases  where  consciousness  exists?  By  the 
extreme  feebleness  of  the  states  of  conscious- 
ness. There  are  only  two  means  of  giving 
fixity  to  a  state  of  consciousness,  viz. :  inten- 
sity and  repetition.  The  latter  is  reducible  to 
the  former,  for  repetition  is  a  sum  of  lesser 
intensities.  Here  there  is  neither  intensity 
nor  repetition.  The  mental  disturbance  which 
follows  the  paroxysm  is  very  well  defined  by 
Jackson  when  he  calls  it  "an  epileptic 
dream."  One  of  his  patients,  nineteen  years  of 
age,  and  a  person  very  unlikely  to  dogmatize 
on  the  subject,  of  his  rwn  accord  hit  upon 
the  same  expression.  "  Last  time  he  had  a  fit 
and  went  to  bed,  ana  when  in  bed  said, 
'Wait  a  bit,  Bill,  I  am  coming.'  He  went 
down  stairs;  he  unbolted  the  doors,  and  went 
out  in  his  night-shirt.  He  came  to  himself 
just  as  he  was  stepping  on  the  cold  stones, 
and  then  his  father  touched  him.  He  said 
be  had  had  a  dream.  '  It's  all  right,  /  have 
had  a  dream!'" 

In  order  to  proceed  from  the  known  to  the 
unknown,  let  us  compare  the  mental  state  of 
epileptics  with  that  of  a  dreamer.  Dreams 
of  which  all  recollection  disappears  instantly, 
are  very  common.  We  awake  in  the  night 
out  of  a  dream;  the  recollection  of  the  inter- 
rupted dream  is  very  clear;  next  morning  not 
a  trace  remains.  Who  is  there  who  has  not 
tried  over  and  over,  in  vain,  to  recall  some 
dream  of  the  previous  night,  of  which  he  re- 
members nothing,  except  that  he  has  had  a 
dream  ? 

The  explanation  is  simple.  The  states  of 
consciousness  that  make  up  a  dream  are  ex- 
tremely faint.  They  appear  to  be  strong, 
not  because  they  really  are  so,  but  because 
there  is  no  strong  state  of  consciousness  to 
force  them  into  the  background.  So  soon  as 
the  waking  state  begins  again  everything  re- 
sumes its  own  place.  Images  fade  away  in 
the  presence  of  sense  perceptions,  these  in 
the  presence  of  a  state  of  fixed  attention,  and 
this  in  the  presence  of  a  fixed  idea.  In  short, 
consciousness  during  dreams  has  a  minimum 
intensity. 

Hence  the  difficulty  is  to  explain  why,  dur- 
ing the  period  following  an  epileptic  seizure, 
consciousness  falls  to  a  minimum.  Neither 
physiology  nor  psychology  can  explain  it, 
for  neither  science  knows  anything  about 
the  conditions  of  the  genesis  of  consciousness 
The  problem  is  the  more  embarrassing  be- 
cause amnesia  attaches  to  the  delirium  of  ep- 
ilepsy and  to  that  delirium  only,  as  we  see  in 
the  case  of  those  who  are  both  epileptics  and 
victims  of  alcoholism.  A  patient  is  seized 
with  an  epileptic  fit  during  the  day ;  he 
smashes  everything  within  reach,  #nd  is  vio- 


lent in  every  way.  After  a  brief  period  of 
quiet,  he  falls  during  the  night  into  alcoholic 
delirium,  which  is  characterized  by  frightful 
visions.  Next  day,  coming  to  hioaself,  he 
distinctly  recollects  the  delirium  of  the  night 
before,  but  has  no  remembrance  of  the  de- 
lirium of  the  preceding  day. 

There  is  still  another  difficulty.  If  the 
amnesia  is  due  to  the  weakness  of  the  pri- 
mary states  of  consciousness,  how  comes  it 
that  these  faint  states  of  consciousness  deter- 
mine the  patient  to  acts  ?  According  to 
Hughlings  Jackson,  "mental  automatism  re- 
sults from  over  action  of  low  nervous  centers, 
because  the  highest  or  controlling  centers 
have  been  put  out  of  use."  We  have  here 
only  an  illustration'  of  a  well-known  physio 
logical  law,  viz.,  that  the  excito- motor  power 
of  the  reflex  centers  increases  when  their 
connection  with  the  superior  centers  is 
broken.* 

Let  us  consider  only  the  psychological 
problem  :  a  solution  of  that  is  possible.  II 
we  insist  on  making  consciousness  a  "  force" 
self- existent  and  self-acting,  everything  be- 
comes obscure.  But  if  we  hold,  as  was  ex- 
plained in  the  preceding  chapter,  that  con- 
sciousness is  a  concomitant  of  a  nervous 
state,  and  that  this  nervous  state  is  the  fun- 
damental element,  all  becomes  clear.  At 
least  it  is  no  contradiction  to  say  that  a  ner- 
vous, state  sufficient  to  determine  certain  acts 
is  insufficient  to  awaken  consciousness.  To 
produce  a  movement  and  to  produce  a  state 
of  consciousness  are  two  distinct  and  inde- 
pendent facts;  the  conditions  of  the  one  are 
not  those  of  the  other. 

In  conclusion,  we  may  note  that  the  in- 
evitable  consequence  of  repeated  epileptic 
seizures,  especially  those  of  epileptic  vertigo, 
is  a  progressive  weakening  of  memory  in  its 
entirety.  We  shall  later  study  this  form  of 
amnesia. 

We  now  pass  to  cases  of  temporary  amne- 
sia of  a  destructive  character.  In  the  ex- 
amples already  cited,  the  capital  accumulated 
down  to  the  moment  of  the  seizure  is  not  im- 
paired; the  only  effect  is  that  something  that 
was  in  the  consciousness  does  not  remain  in 
the  memory.  In  the  examples  which  follow, 
a  part  of  the  capital  is  lost.  Such  cases 
make  most  impression  on  the  imagination. 
Possibly  some  day,  as  physiology  and  psychol- 
ogy advance,  they  will  from  these  cases 
teach  us  much  regarding  the  nature  of  mem- 
ory; just  now  these  facts  are  not  the  most 
instructive — at  least,  in  my  estimation,  what- 
ever they  may  disclose  to  others. 

These  cases  differ  widely  from  one  anoth- 
er. Sometimes  the  suspension  of  memory 


* "  A  highly  important  character  of  epileptic 
mania."  says  Falret,  loc.  cit,,  "is  the  absolute  like- 
ness of  all  the  attacks  in  the  same  patient,  not  only 
their  likeness  as  a  whole,  but  in  every  detail.  The 
same  patient  expresses  the  same  thoughts,  utters  the 
same  words,  performs  the  same  acts.  There  is  a  sur- 
prising uniformity  in  all  the  paroxysms. 


THE   DISEASES  OF   MEMORY. 


19 


begins  at  the  onset  of  the  disease,  covering 
events  that  happen  thereafter;  again,  it  covers 
the  events  occurring  just  previous  to  the 
seizure;  generally  it  extends  in  both  direc- 
tions, both  to  the  time  before  and  the  lime 
after  the  attack.  Sometimes  memory  re- 
turns spontaneously,  suddenly;  sometimes 
slowly  and  with  some  little  assistance;  some- 
times the  loss  of  memory  is  total  and  the 
patient  has  to  learn  everything  over  again. 
We  will  present  instances  of  all  these  differ- 
ent phases. 

"A  young  woman,  wedded  to  a  man  she 
loved  passionately,  was  seized  in  child-bed 
with  a  long  syncope,  at  the  termination  of 
which  it  was  found  that  she  had  lost  all  mem- 
ory of  the  time  after  and  including  her  mar- 
riage. All  the  rest  of  her  life  down  to  that 
moment  she  remembered  quite  distinctly.  At 
first  she  repelled  her  husband  and  her  child, 
when  presented  to  her.  She  never  was  able 
to  regain  the  memory  of  that  period  of  her 
life,  nor  of  the  events  belonging  to  it.  Her 
relatives  and  friends  succeeded,  by  reasoning 
with  her  and  by  the  force  of  their  testimony, 
in  persuading  her  that  she  had  been  married, 
and  was  a  mother.  She  credited  them,  pre- 
ferring to  believe  that  she  had  lost  the  mem- 
ory of  a  year,  rather  than  to  hold  them  all  to 
be  impostors.  But  her  own  convictions,  her 
own  inmost  consciousness  had  no  part  in 
this.  She  saw  before  her  her  husband  and 
her  infant,  but  coald  not  imagine  by  what 
magic  she  had  won  the  one  or  given  birth  to 
the  other."* 

Here  we  see  an  instance  of  incurable  am- 
nesia, extending  only  backward  in  time.  As 
for  its  psychological  explanation,  that  is  to 
be  found  in  the  destruction  of  the  residua 
and  the  impossibility  of  their  reproduction. 
In  the  following  case,  reported  by  Laycock, 
the  amnesia  extends  forward  only,  and  hence 
is  to  be  attributed  only  to  the  fact  that  the  states 
of  consciousness  cannot  be  registered  and 
preserved.  The  engineer  of  a  steamship  had 
a  fall  upon  his  back,  striking  the  back  of  his 
head  against  some  hard  object.  For  a  while 
he  lay  unconscious.  Coming  to  himself,  he 
soon  regained  perfect  physical  health;  he 
retained  recollection  of  all  the  years  pre- 
ceding the  accident,  but  from  that  moment 
forward  memory  no  longer  existed,  even 
concerning  facts  strictly  personal.  On 
reaching  the  hospital  he  could  not  say 
whether  he  had  come  afoot,  in  a  carriage 
or  by  railroad.  On  leaving  the  dinner 
table  he  forgot  that  he  had  taken  that 
meal;  he  had  no  idea  what  hour,  or  day,  or 
week  it  might  be.  He  would  strive  to  reflect 
so  as  to  answer  questions,  but  in  vain.  His 
speech  was  slow,  but  his  language  was  cor- 
rect. He  says  what  he  intends  to  say,  and 
he  reads  correctly.  This  infirmity  of  mem- 


*  "  Lettre  de  Charles  Villiers  a  G.  Cuvier."  (Paris; 

Leaormamt,  iSoa). 


ory  gave  way  before  suitable  medical  treat- 
ment.* 

As  a  general  rule,  in  cases  of  temporary 
amnesia,  due  to  concussion  of  the  brain,  a 
retroactive  effect  is  produced.  The  patient, 
on  returning  to  consciousness,  is  found  not 
only  to  have  lost  the  recollection  of  the  acci- 
dent and  the  period  succeeding  it,  but  also  to 
have  forgotten  a  longer  or  shorter  period 
prior  to  it.  Many  instances  might  be  quoted 
in  confirmation  of  this;  I  will  cite  only  one, 
mentioned  by  Carpenter,  f 

A  Mr.  H.  "  was  driving  his  wife  and  child 
in  a  phaeton,  when  the  horse  took  fright  and 
ran  away;  and.  all  attempts  to  pull  him  in 
being  unsuccessful,  the  phaeton  was  at  last 
violently  dashed  against  a  wall,  and  Mr.  H. 
was  thrown  out,  sustaining  a  severe  concus- 
sion of  the  brain.  On  recovering,  he  found 
that  he  had  forgotten  the  immediate  antece- 
dents of  the  accident;  the  last  thing  he  remem- 
bered being  that  he  had  met  an  acquaintance 
on  the  road,  about  two  miles  from  the  scene 
of  it.  Of  the  efforts  he  had  made  and  the 
terror  of  his  wife  and  child  he  has  not  to  this 
day  any  recollection  whatever." 

We  next  give  some  cases  of  amnesia  of  a 
far  more  serious  character,  some  of  them  ne- 
cessitating a  complete  re-education:  I  take 
them  from  the  English  magazine,  "Brain." 

The  first  observation,  reported  by  Dr. 
Mortimer  Granville,  was  made  in  the  case  of 
a  hysterical  woman  twenty-six  years  of  age, 
who,  after  over-exerting  herself,  was  seized 
with  a  violent  fit,  accompanied  with  total  loss 
of  consciousness.  ' '  When  consciousness  be- 
gan to  return,  the  latest  sane  ideas  formed 
previous  to  the  illness  mingled  curiously  with 
the  new  impressions  received,  as  in  the  case 
of  a  person  awakening  slowly  from  a  dream. 
When  propped  up  with  pillows  in  bed  near 
the  window,  so  that  persons  in  the  street 
could  be  seen,  the  patient  described  the  mov- 
ing objects  as  'trees  walking';  and  when 
asked  where  she  saw  these  things,  she  in- 
variably replied,  *in  the  other  Gospel.'  In 
short,  her  mental  state  was  one  in  which  the 
real  and  ideal  were  not  separable.  Her  re- 
collections on  recovery,  and  for  some  time 
afterward,  were  indistinct,  and,  in  regard  to 
a  large  class  of  common  topics  which  must 
have  formed  the  staple  material  of  thought 
up  to  the  period  of  the  attack,  memory  was 
blank.  Special  subjects  of  thought  imme- 
diately anterior  to  the  malady  seemed  to  have 
saturated  the  mind  so  completely  that  the 
early  impressions  received  after  recovery  com- 
menced were  imbued  with  them,  while  the 
cerebral  record  of  penultimate  brain-work  in 
the  life  before  the  morbid  state,  was,  as  it 
were,  obliterated.  For  example,-  although 
this  young  woman  had  supported  herself  by 
daily  duty  as  a  governess  she  had  no  recol- 
lection of  so  simple  a  matter  as  the  use  of  a 


*  Laycock,  on  "  Certain  Disorders  and  Defect*  of 
Memory."    Page  12. 
t  Op.  Cit.,  p.  450. 


20 


THE   DISEASES   OF   MEMORY. 


writing  implement.  When  a  pen  or  pencil 
was  placed  in  her  hand,  as  it  might  be  thrust 
between  the  fingers  of  a  child,  the  act  of 
grasping  it  was  not  excited,  even  reflexly;  the 
touch  or  sight  of  the  instrument  awoke  no 
association  of  ideas.  The  most  perfect  de- 
struction of  brain-tissue  could  not  more  com- 
pletely have  effaced  the  constructive  effect  of 
education  and  habit  on  the  cerebral  elements. 
This  state  lasted  some  weeks."*  Memory  of 
what  had  been  forgotten  was  recovered  slow- 
ly, painfully,  though  there  was  no  necessity 
for  so  complete  a  re-education  as  in  the  next 
case. 

The  second  observation,  which  we  owe  to 
Professor  Sharpey,  furnishes  one  of  the  most 
curious  instances  of  re-education  ever  re- 
corded. I  take  from  his  long  article  only  the 
psychological  details.  Here,  too,  the  subject 
was  a  woman  twenty-four  years  of  age,  and 
of  delicate  constitution,  who  for  some  six 
weeks  suffered  from  an  irresistible  tendency 
to  fall  asleep.  This  condition  grew  more 
pronounced  from  day  to  day.  About  June 
10  it  was  impossible  to  awaken  her.  She 
continued  thus  for  two  months.  She  was  fed 
with  a  spoon,  and  swallowed  the  food:  when 
she  had  had  enough,  she  closed  her  teeth  and 
turned  her  mouth  away.  She  appeared  to 
distinguish  flavors,  for  she  steadily  refused 
certain  kinds  of  food.  At  long  intervals  she 
had  brief  moments  of  waking.  She  answered 
no  questions  and  recognized  nobody,  save 
once  when  she  recognized  "an  old  acquaint- 
ance, whom  she  had  not  seen  for  more  than 
twelve  months.  She  looked  steadfastly  in 
this  person's  face  for  a  few  seconds,  appar- 
ently occupied  in  trying  to  remember  his 
name,  which  at  length  she  found  out  and  re- 
peated again  and  again,  at  the  same  time 
taking  him  by  the  hand  as  if  overjoyed  to 
see  him.  She  then  again  fell  into  her  slum- 
ber." Toward  the  end  of  August  she  re- 
turned little  by  little  to  her  normal  state. 

Here  began  the  work  of  re-educating  her. 
"  On  her  recovery  from  the  torpor,  she  ap- 
peared to  have  forgotten  nearly  all  her  pre- 
vious knowledge;  everything  seemed  new  to 
her,  and  she  did  not  recognize  a  single  indi- 
vidual— not  even  her  nearest  relatives.  In 
her  behavior  she  was  restless  and  inattentive, 
but  very  lively  and  cheerful;  she  was  de- 
lighted with  everything  she  saw  or  heard,  and 
altogether  resembled  a  child  more  than  a 
grown  person. 

"  In  a  short  time  she  became  more  sedate, 
and  her  attention  could  be  longer  fixed  on 
one  object.  Her  memory,  too,  so  entirely 
lost,  as  far  as  regarded  previous  knowledge, 
was  soon  found  to  be  most  acute  and  reten- 
tive with  respect  to  everything  she  saw  or 
heard  subsequently  to  her  disorder,  and  she 
has  by  this  time  recovered  many  of  her  former 
acquirements,  some  with  greater,  others  with 
less  facility.  With  regard  to  these,  it  is  re- 


»"  Brain,"  Oct.  1879,  p.  317,  M<N. 


markable  that  though  the  process  followed  ift 
regaining  many  of  them  apparently  consisted 
in  recalling  them  to  mind  with  the  assistance 
of  her  neighbors  rather  than  in  studying 
them  anew,  yet  even  now  she  does  not  appeal 
to  be  in  the  smallest  degree  conscious  of 
having  possessed  them  before. 

"At  first  it  was  scarcely  possible  to  engage 
her  in  conversation;  in  place  of  answering  a 
question,  she  repeated  it  aloud  in  the  same 
words  in  which  it  was  put,  and  even  long 
after  she  came  to  answer  questions  she  con- 
stantly repeated  them  onceover  before  giving 
her  reply.  At  first  she  had  very  few  words, 
but  she  soon  acquired  a  great  many,  and 
often  strangely  misapplied  them.  She  did 
this,  however,  for  the  most  part  in  particular 
ways  ;  she  often,  for  instance,  made  one 
word  answer  for  all  others  which  were  in  any 
way  allied  to  it.  Thus,  in  place  of  'tea,' 
she  would  ask  for  '  juice,'  and  this  word  she 
long  used  for  liquids.  For  a  longtime,  also, 
in  expressing  the  Qualities  of  objects,  she  in- 
variably, where  it  was  possible,  used  the 
words  denoting  the  very  opposite  of  what  she 
intended,  and  thus  she  would  say  '  white  '  in 
place  of  '  black,'  '  hot  '  for  '  cold,'  etc.  She 
would  often,  also,  talk  of  her  arm  when  she 
meant  her  leg,  her  eye  when  she  meant  her 
tooth,  etc.  She  now  generally  uses  her 
words  with  propriety,  although  she  is  some- 
times apt  to  change  her  terminations  or  com- 
pose new  ones  of  her  own. 

"  She  has  as  yet  recognized  no  person,  not 
even  her  nearest  connections  ;  that  is  to  say, 
she  has  no  recollection  of  having  seen  or 
known  them  previous  to  her  illness,  though 
she  is  aware  of  having  seen  them  since,  and 
calls  them  either  by  their  right  names  or  by 
those  of  her  own  giving,  but  she  knows  them 
only  as  new  acquaintances,  and  has  no  idea  of 
what  relations  they  sustain  to  herself.  She 
has  not  seen  above  a  dozen  people  since  her 
illness,  and  she  looks  on  these  as  all  that  she 
has  ever  known. 

"Among  other  acquirements,  she  has  re- 
covered that  of  reading;  but  it  was  requisite 
to  begin  with  the  alphabet,  as  she  at  first  did 
not  know  a  single  letter.  She  afterward 
learned  to  form  syllables  and  small  words, 
and  now  she  reads  tolerably  well,  and  has 
shown  herself  much  interested  in  several 
stories  previously  unknown  to  her,  which  she 
has  read  since  her  recovery.  The  re-acquisi- 
tion of  her  reading  was  eventually  facilitated 
by  singing  the  words  of  familiar  songs  from 
the  printed  page,  while  she  played  on  the 
piano.  In  learning  to  write  she  began  with  the 
most  elementary  lessons,  but  made  much  more 
rapid  progress  than  a  person  who  had  never 
before  been  taught.  Very  soon  after  the 
torpor  left  her  she  could  sing  many  of  her  old 
songs,  and  play  on  the  pianoforte  with  little 
or  no  assistance,  and  she  has  since  continued 
to  practice  her  music,  which  now  affords  her 
great  pleasure  and  amusement.  In  singing, 
she  at  first  generally  required  to  be  helped 


THE     DISEASES   OF   MEMORY. 


21 


Jo  the  first  two  or  three  words  of  a  line,  and 
made  out  the  rest  apparently  from  memory. 
She  can  play  from  the  music  book  several 
tunes  which  she  had  never  seen  before;  and 
her  friends  are  inclined  to  think  that  she  now 
plays  and  sings  fully  as  well,  if  not  better, 
than  she  did  previously  to  her  illness  She 
learned  backgammon,  which  she  formerly 
knew,  and  several  games  at  cards,  with  very 
little  trouble;  and  she  can  now  knit  worsted, 
and  do  several  other  sorts  of  work;  but  with 
regard  to  all  these  acquirements,  as  already 
mentioned,  it  is  remarkable  that  she  appears 
not  to  have  the  slightest  remembrance  of 
having  possessed  them  before,  although  it  is 
plain  that  the  process  of  recovery  has  been 
greatly  aided  by  previous  knowledge,  which, 
however,  she  seems  unconscious  of  having 
ever  acquired.  When  asked  how  she  had 
learned  to  play  the  notes  of  music,  from  a 
book,  she  replied  that  she  could  not  tell,  and 
only  wondered  why  her  questioner  could  not 
do  the  same. 

"She  has  once  or  twice  had  dreams,  which 
she  afterward  related  to  her  friends,  and  she 
seemed  quite  aware  of  the  difference  betwixt 
a  dream  and  a  reality;  indeed,  from  several 
casual  remarks  which  she  makes  of  her  own 
accord,  it  would  appear  that  she  possesses 
many  general  ideas  of  a  more  or  less  complex 
nature,  which  she  has  had  no  opportunity  of 
acquiring  since  her  recovery."" 

So  far  as  we  may  judge  from  Dr.  Sharpey's 
narrative  this  re-education  did  not  take  more 
than  three  months;  nor  is  that  an  unexampled 
circumstance.  "A  clergyman,  of  rare  talent 
and  energy,  of  sound  education,  was  thrown 
from  his  carriage  and  received  a  violent  con- 
cussion of  the  brain.  For  several  days  he 
remained  utterly  unconscious,  and  when  re- 
stored his  intellect  was  observed  to  be  in  a 
state  similar  to  that  of  a  naturally  intelligent 
child.  Although  in  middle  life,  he  commenced 
his  English  and  classical  studies  under 
tutors,  and  was  progressing  satisfactorily, 
when,  after  several  months'  successful  study, 
his  memory  gradually  returned,  and  his  mind 
resumed  all  its  wonted  vigor  and  its  former 
wealth  and  polish  of  culture,  "f 

"  A  gentleman  about  thirty  years  of  age, 
of  learning  and  acquirements,  at  the  termi- 
nation of  a  severe  illness,  was  found  to  have 
lost  the  recollection  of  everything,  even  the 
names  of  the  most  common  objects.  His 
health  being  restored,  he  began  to  re-acquire 
knowledge  like  a  child.  After  learning  the 
names  of  objects,  he  was  taught  to  read,  and, 
after  this,  began  to  learn  Latin.  He  made 
considerable  progress,  when,  one  day,  in 
reading  his  lesson  with  his  brother,  who  was 
his  teacher,  he  suddenly  stopped  and  put  his 
hand  to  his  head.  Being  asked  why  he  did 
so,  he  replied,  '  I  feel  a  peculiar  sensation  in 
my  head;  and  now  it  appears  to  me  that  I 


*  "  Brain,"  April,  1879. 

t  Forbes  Wmsiow,  op.  ct't.,  p.  317. 


knew  all  this  before.'  From  that  time  he 
rapidly  recovered  his  faculties."* 

I  hold  it  sufficient,  for  the  present,  to  lay 
these  facts  before  the  reader.  The  remarks 
they  suggest  will  find  more  suitable  place 
elsewhere.  I  shall  conclude  with  a  case  little 
known,  which  marks  the  natural  transition  to 
intermittent  amnesia.  We  shall,  in  fact,  see 
gradually  formed  a  provisional  memory,  and 
this  again  suddenly  disappearing  before  the 
original  memory. 

A  young  woman,  robust  and  healthy,  acci- 
dentally fell  into  a  river  and  was  nearly 
drowned.  She  was  insensible  for  six  hours 
and  then  p  returned  to  consciousness.  Ten 
days  afterward  she  fell  into  a  profound  stu- 
por which  lasted  four  hours.  On  opening 
her  eyes  she  no  longer  recognized  any  one, 
and  she  was  deprived  of  hearing  and  speech, 
taste  and  smell.  She  retained  only  sight  and 
touch,  and  these  senses  were  of  extreme 
sensibility.  Ignorant  of  everything,  and  un- 
able to  stir,  she  was  like  an  animal  deprived 
of  its  brain.  She  had  a  good  appetite,  but 
she  had  to  be  fed ;  she  ate  all  sorts  of  food 
indifferently,  swallowing  it  in  purely  auto- 
matic fashion.  Indeed,  so  strictly  automatic 
was  her  whole  activity  that  for  days  her  only 
occupation  consisted  in  unraveling,  picking 
or  clipping  into  minute  pieces  everything  that 
come  to  her  hand,  as  flowers,  paper,  clothing, 
etc. ,  and  then  arranging  the  scraps  to  form 
certain  rude  patterns.  Later  her  friends 
supplied  the  materials  for  making  patchwork, 
and  after  a  few  preparatory  lessons  she  took 
up  the  needle  and  worked  incessantly  from 
morning  till  night,  making  no  distinction  be- 
tween Sunday  and  week-day,  and  even  unable 
to  perceive  the  difference.  She  retained  no 
recollection  of  events  from  one  day  to  another, 
and  each  morning  she  began  a  new  task. 
Still,  like  an  infant,  she  was  beginning  to 
register  a  few  thoughts  and  to  acquire  some 
experience.  She  was  next  put  at  work  of  a 
little  higher  character,  worsted  work.  She 
seemed  to  take  great  pleasure  in  gazing  at 
the  patterns  with  their  flowers  and  their  har- 
mony of  colors;  but  each  day  she  would  com- 
mence a  new  piece,  forgetting  that  of  the  day 
before,  unless  it  was  set  before  her. 

The  thoughts  derived  from  her  former  ex- 
perience that  seemed  to  be  first  reawakened, 
were  connected  with  two  matters  that  had 
made  a  strong  impression  upon  her,  namely, 
the  fall  into  the  river  and  a  love  affair.  When 
a  landscape  was  shown  her  containing  a  river 
or  a  view  of  a  troubled  sea,  she  became 
greatly  agitated,  and  forthwith  would  have 
an  attack  of  spasmodic  rigidity  accompanied 
by  insensibility.  So  great  was  the  fright 
given  her  by  the  sight  of  water,  especially 
water  in  motion,  that  pouring  water  from 
one  vessel  into  another  was  enough  to  make 
her  tremble.  It  was  observed  that  when 


*  Ibid. 


22 


THE   DISEASES   OF    MEMORY. 


she   washed  her  hands,  she   simply  dipped 
them  in  the  water,  as  gently  as  possible. 

From  the  beginning  of  her  malady  the 
viiits  of  a  young  man  to  who.n  she  was  at- 
tached gave  her  evident  pleasure,  even  while 
she  was  insensible  to  everything  else.  He 
came  regularly  every  evening,  and  she  always 
looked  for  his  arrival.  At  a  time  when  she 
could  not  recall  any  occurrence  an  hour  after 
it  had  happened,  she  used  to  look  anxiously 
for  the  door  to  open  at  the  accustomed  hour, 
and  if  he  did  not  come,  she  would  be  ill- 
humored  the  rest  of  the  evening.  On  being 
taken  into  the  country,  she  became  low- 
spirited,  irritable,  and  her  paroxysms  were 
frequent.  But  while  the  young  man  remained 
near  her,  her  intellectual  faculties  and  her 
memory  were  visibly  improved. 

This  return  of  her  faculties  was  going  en 
gradually  all  the  time.  One  day  seeing  her 
mother  much  grieved,  she  suddenly  exclaim- 
ed, after  a  moment's  hesitation,  "  What  is  the 
matter?"  From  that  moment  forth  she  be- 
gan to  articulate  a  few  words,  though  she 
called  neither  persons  nor  things  by  their 
true  names.  The  pronoun  "this, "was  her 
favorite  word,  and  she  applied  it  to  all  sorts 
of  objects,  animate  and  inanimate  alike.  The 
first  objects  she  called  by  their  own  names 
were  wild  flowers,  for  which  she  had  shown 
a  strong  liking  from  her  childhood.  At  this 
period  she  had  as  yet  no  recollection  what- 
ever of  the  places  or  the  persons  associated 
with  her  early  years. 

"  The  mode  of  recovery  of  this  patient 
was  quite  as  remarkable  as  anything  in  her 
history.  Her  health  and  bodily  strength 
seemed  completely  reestablished,  her  vocabu- 
lary was  being  extended,  and  her  mental  ca- 
pacity was  improving,  when  she  became 
aware  that  her  lover  was  paying  attention  to 
another  woman.  This  idea  immediately  and 
very  naturally  excited  the  emotion  of  jeal- 
ousy; which,  if  we  analyze  it,  will  appear  to 
be  nothing  else  than  a  painful  feeling  con- 
nected with  the  idea  of  the  faithlessness  of 
the  object  beloved.  On  one  occasion  this 
feeling  was  so  strongly  excited  that  she  fell 
down  in  a  fit  of  insensibility,  which  resem- 
bled her  first  attack  in  duration  and  severity. 
This,  however,  proved  sanatory.  When  the 
insensibility  passed  off,  she  was  no  longer 
spell-bound.  The  veil  of  oblivion  was  with- 
drawn; and,  as  if  awakening  from  a  sleep  of 
twelve  months'  duration,  she  found  herself 
surrounded  by  her  grandfather,  grandmother, 
and  their  familiar  friends  and  acquaintances. 
She  awoke  in  the  possession  of  her  natural 
faculties  and  former  knowledge,  but  without 
the  slightest  remembrance  of  anything  which 
had  taken  place  in  the  year's  interval  from 
the  invasion  of  the  first  fit  up  to  the  present 
time.  She  spoke,  but  she  heard  not;  she 
was  still  deaf,  but,  being  able  to  read  and 
write  as  formerly,  she  was  no  longer  cut  on 
from  association  with  others.  From  this 
tisae  she  rapidly  improved,  but  for  a  while 


continued  deaf.  She  soon  perfectly  under- 
stood by  the  motion  of  her  lips  what  hei 
mother  said ;  they  conversed  with  facility  and 
quickness  together,  but  she  did  not  under- 
stand the  language  of  the  lips  of  a  stranger. 
She  was  completely  unaware  of  the  change 
in  her  lover's  affections,  which  had  taken 
place  in  her  state  of  '  second  consciousness;' 
and  a  painful  explanation  was  necessary. 
This,  however,  she  bore  very  well;  and  she 
has  since  recovered  her  bodily  and  mental 
health."* 

We  shall  see  further  on,  when  we  shall 
have  traversed  all  the  facts,  what  general 
conclusions  as  to  the  mechanism  of  memory 
are  to  be  drawn  from  its  pathology.  For  the 
moment  we  shall  restrict  ourselves  to  a  few 
observations  suggested  by  the  foregoing  facts. 

In  the  first  place  we  would  remark  that  the 
cases  just  cited,  though  classed  by  physicians 
under  the  general  head  of  total  amnesia,  in 
reality  belong,  from  the  psycological  point  of 
view,  to  two  different  morbid  types. 

The  first  type  (represented  by  the  cases 
observed  by  Villiers,  Laycock,  Mortimer 
Granville,  etc.)  is  by  far  the  more  frequent. 
We  have  given  only  a  few  examples,  so  as 
not  to  weary  the  reader  with  monotonous  and 
unprofitable  repetition.  What  characterizes 
this  type,  psychologically,  is  the  fact  that 
here  the  amnesia  attaches  only  to  the  least 
automatic  and  least  organized  forms  of  the 
memory.  In  cases  belonging  to  this  morbid 
group  neither  the  habits  nor  skill  in  any 
handicraft,  as  sewing  or  embroidery,  nor  the 
power  of  reading  or  writing,  or  speaking  one's, 
own  or  other  languages,  disappears;  in  short, 
memory  in  its  organized  or  semi-organized 
form,  remains  intact.  The  destruction  of 
memory  in  these  cases  affects  only  its  highest 
and  most  instable  forms,  those  personal  in 
character  and  which,  being  accompanied  by- 
consciousness  and  localization  in  time,  con- 
stitute that  which  in  the  preceding  chapter 
we  called  psychic  memory  proper.  It  is  fur- 
ther to  be  remarked  that  the  amnesia  covers 
the  most  recent  events — extending  backward 
from  the  present  over  a  period  of  variable 
duration. f  This  may  at  first  cause  surprise, 
for  our  latest  recollections  would  seem  to  be 
the  most  vivid,  the  s.rongest.  But,  in  fact, 
this  result  is  perfectly  natural,  the  stability 
of  a  remembrance  being  in  a  direct  ratio  to 
its  degree  of  organization.  But  I  will  not 
dwell  upon  this  point,  which  will  be  con- 
sidered at  length  elsewhere. 

The  physiological  reason  of  amnesia  in 
this  group  is  purely  hypothetical,  and  it  prob- 
ably is  different  in  different  cases.  First  (as 
we  see  especially  in  Laycock's  observation) 


*  Dunn,  in  the  "  Lancet,"  1845.  See  Carpenter, 
op.  cit.  p.  460,  et  seq. 

t  I  must,  however,  mention  a  case  reported  by 
Brown-Sequard,  where  a  patient,  in  consequence  of 
an  attack  of  apoplexy,  lost  recollection  of  five  year* 
of  his  life.  These  five  years,  which  included  th* 
time  of  his  marriage,  ended  just  six  months  bf  fore 
the  date  of  his  attack. 


THE   DISEASES  OF   MEMORY. 


the  power  of  /egistering  new  experiences  is 
temporarily  suspended  ;  states  of  conscious- 
ness disappear  as  quickly  as  they  appear, 
leaving  no  trace.  But  what  becomes  of  the 
recollections  registered  previously  for  weeks, 
and  months  and  years  ?  They  persisted,  they 
were  preserved  and  were  recalled  formerly  ; 
they  seemed  to  be  a  lasting  acquisition,  yet 
in  their  place  is  now  a  void.  This  the  pa- 
tient fills  by  device  and  indirectly  from  the 
testimony  of  others  and  from  his  own  reflec- 
tions, thus  more  or  less  satisfactorily  con- 
necting his  present  with  what  remains  to  him 
of  his  past.  It  does  not  appear  from  the 
observations  made  that  he  ever  fills  this  void 
by  a  direct  reminiscence.  Hence  two  suppo- 
sitions are  equally  warranted;  viz. ,  that  either 
the  registration  of  the  prior  states  has  been 
effaced  ;  or  that  the  retention  of  the  anterior 
states  persisting,  their  aptitude  for  being  re- 
vived by  associations  with  the  present  is  de- 
stroyed. We  are  not  in  a  position  to  decide 
between  these  two  hypotheses. 

The  other,  and  less  frequent  morbid  type 
is  represented  in  the  cases  reported  by 
Sharpey  and  Winslow  (that  observed  by 
Dunn  marks  a  transition  to  intermittent  am- 
nesia). Here  the  work  of  destruction  is 
complete:  memory  in  all  its  forms— organ- 
ized, semi  organized,  and  conscious — is  done 
away.  There  is  complete  amnesia.  As  we 
have  seen,  the  authors  who  have  described  it 
compare  the  patient  to  an  infant  and  his  mind 
to  a  tabula  rasa.  These  expressions,  how- 
ever, are  not  to  be  taken  in  the  strict  sense. 
The  cases  of  re-education  which  we  have 
cited  show  that  though  all  prior  experience  is 
made  null,  there  yet  remain  in  the  brain 
some  few  latent  aptitudes.  The  extreme 
rapidity  of  the  new  education,  especially  in 
its  later  stages,  were  otheiwise  inexplicable. 
Facts  tend  to  prove  beyond  question  that 
this  recovery  of  aptitudes,  which  seems  the 
work  of  artifice,  is  above  all  the  work  of  na- 
ture. The  memory  returns  because  the  atro- 
phied nerve  elements  are  in  time  succeeded 
by  other  nerve  elements  possessing  the  same 
properties,  whether  original  or  acquired,  as 
those  they  succeed.  This  is  another  proof 
of  the  relation  which  subsists  between  mem- 
ory and  nutrition. 

Finally — for  all  cases  of  amnesia  cannot 
be  reduced  to  one  formula — in  cases  where 
the  loss  and  the  recovery  of  memory  are  sud- 
den we  readily  perceive  the  analogues  of 
those  phenomena  of  arrest  of  function  or 
"  inhibition,"  now  closely  studied  by  phy- 
siolog'sts,  but  of  which  very  little  is  known. 

II. 

The  study  of  periodical  amnesia  is  far 
better  Calculated  to  throw  light  upon  the 
nature  of  the  Ego  and  the  conditions  of  ex- 
istence of  the  conscious  personality,  than  to 
exhibit  the  mechanism  of  memory  under  a 
new  aspect.  It  forms  an  interesting  portion 
of  a  work  that  has  never  yet  been  written  in 


full  and  whose  title  might  be  "  Diseases  and 
Aberrations  of  Personality."  It  will  be 
difficult  for  us  to  avoid  touching  upon  this 
subject  every  moment,  but  I  shall  endeavor 
to  say  of  it  only  what  is  indispensable  for 
clearness  of  exposition. 

I  shall  be  sparing  of  illustrative  facts,  for 
they  are  sufficiently  known.  The  study  of 
so-called  cases  of  "double  consciousness," 
is  quite  in  the  fashion.  Dr.  Azam's  detailed 
and  instructive  study,  in  particular,  has  given 
the  general  reader  a  clearer  idea  of  what  is 
meant  by  periodic  amnesia,  than  could  be  got 
from  any  definition.  I  shall,  therefore,  con- 
tent myself  with  a  review  of  the  principal 
cases,  proceeding  from  the  most  perfect  phase 
of  periodic  amnesia  to  its  most  elementary 
forms. 

I.  The  clearest,  most  unquestionable  and 
most  perfect  case  of  periodic  amnesia  on 
record  is  that  given  by  Macnish  in  his  "  Phi- 
losophy of  Sleep,"  and  which  has  since  been 
ofttimes  quoted:  A  young  American  woman, 
on  awaking  from  a  protracted  sleep,  lost 
memory  of  all  she  had  before  learned.  ' '  Her 
memory  was  capacious  and  well  stored  with 
a  copious  stock  of  ideas.  Unexpectedly, 
and  without  any  forewarning,  she  fell  into  a 
profound  sleep,  which  continued  several 
hours  beyond  the  ordinary  term.  On  waking, 
she  was  discovered  to  have  lost  every  trace  of 
acquired  knowledge.  Her  memory  was  ta- 
bula rasa — all  vestiges,  both  of  words  and 
things,  were  obliterated  and  gone.  It  was 
found  necessary  for  her  to  learn  everything 
again.  She  even  acquired,  by  new  efforts, 
the  art  of  spelling,  reading,  writing  and  cal- 
culating, and  gradually  became  acquainted 
with  the  persons  and  objects  around,  like  a 
being  for  the  first  time  brought  into  the 
world.  In  these  exercises  she  made  con- 
siderable proficiency.  But,  after  a  few 
months,  another  fit  of  somnolency  invaded 
her.  On  rousing  from  it,  she  found  herself 
restored  to  the  state  she  was  in  before  the 
first  paroxysm;  but  was  wholly  ignorant  of 
every  event  and  occurrence  that  had  befallen 
her  afterward.  The  former  condition  of  her 
existence  she  now  calls  the  old  state,  and  the 
latter  the  new  state;  and  she  is  as  uncon- 
scious of  her  double  character  as  two  distinct 
persons  are  of  their  respective  natures.  For 
example,  in  her  old  state  she  possesses  all 
the  original  knowledge,  in  her  new  state  only 
what  she  acquired  since.  In  the  old  state 
she  possesses  fine  powers  of  penmanship, 
while  in  the  new  she  writes  a  poor,  awkward 
hand,  having  not  had  time  or  means  to  be- 
come an  expert."* 

Dismissing  for  the  moment  all  that  relates 
to  the  alternation  of  the  two  personalities,  we 
see  that  there  have  been  formed  here  two 
perfect  memories  entirely  independent  of 
each  other.  It  is  not  alone  the  memory  of 
personal  facts,  the  fully  conscious  memory, 


*  Macnish,  "  Philosophy  of  Sleep." 


24 


THE   DISEASES   OF    MEMORY. 


that  is  cut  into  two  parts  which  never  re 
unite,  and  which  have  no  cognizance  of  each 
other:  the  same  lot  befalls  the  semi-organic, 
semi-c»nscious  memory  which  serves  us  in 
speaking,  in  reading,  and  in  writing.  We 
are  not  informed  whether  this  disscission  of 
memory  extended  also  to  its  purely  organic 
forms,  the  habits, — whether  the  patient  for 
instance  had  to  learn  anew  how  to  use  the 
hands  for  every-day  offices,  as  in  eating,  put- 
ting on  clothes,  and  the  like.  But  even 
though  we  suppose  this  group  to  have  re- 
mained intact,  the  separation  into  two  distinct 
and  independent  groups  is  so  complete  as  to 
satisfy  the  most  exacting  observer. 

Dr.  Azam  recounts  a  case  resembling  this, 
but  far  less  clearly  defined.  The  normal 
memory  disappears,  and  reappears  periodi- 
cally. In  the  interval  no  new  memory  is 
formed,  but  the  patient  retains  a  beggarly 
remnant  of  his  old  memory:  snch  at  least  is 
the  inference  to  be  drawn  from  the  record  of 
an  observation  whose  psychological  details 
are  not  always  very  accurate.*  The  case  was 
that  of  a  youth  who,  having  been  subject  to 
chorea,  lost  all  memory  of  the  past,  forgot 
all  that  he  had  ever  been  taught,  could  no 
longer  read,  nor  write,  nor  count,  and  recog- 
nized none  of  the  persons  around  him  except 
his  father,  his  mother,  and  the  nun  who  at- 
tended him.  Yet  while  the  amnesia  lifted — 
and  usually  its  term  was  a  month — the  young 
man  could  ride  on  horseback,  drive  a  car- 
riage, lead  his  accustomed  life,  and  say  his 
prayers  very  regularly  at  the  proper  times. 
Memory  usually  came  back  suddenly.  So 
far  as  we  may  judge,  there  was  in  this  case  a 
periodic  suspension  of  the  memory  in  its  in- 
stable  and  semi- stable — or  conscious  .  and 
semi-conscious — forms  (consciousness  being 
as  a  rule  in  ratio  inverse  to  stability).  But 
whatever  had  to  do  with  organized  mem- 
ory remained  intact:  the  lowermost  strata  of 
memory  stood  firm.  I  will  not,  however, 
dwell  upon  a  case  which  has  not  been  re- 
ported with  sufficient  details  to  warrant  a 
psychological  interpretation. 

II. — A  second  and  less  complete,  but  more 
frequent  form  of  periodic  amnesia  is  that  so  in- 
terestingly described  by  Dr.  Azam,  in  the 
•case  of  Felida  X.,  and  of  which  Dr  Dufay 
found  the  analogue  in  the  case  of  one  of  his 
patients.  These  cases  are  so  well  known, 
and  the  original  narratives  so  accessible,  that 
a  brief  summary  of  them  will  suffice  here. 

A  woman  subject  to  hysteria  was  in  1856 
attacked  by  a  singular  disease  in  consequence 
of  which  she  thereafter  led  a  two-fold  life, 
passing  alternately  from  one  to  another  of 
two  states,  designated  by  Dr.  Azam,  as  the 
"first"  arfd  the  "second"  state.  In  her 
normal  ("  first ")  state,  she  was  grave,  seri- 


*  "Revue  Scientifique,"  22  Dec  ,  1877.  For  in- 
stance, it  is  there  said  that  during  one  of  the  attacks 
the  patient  "could  converse  intelligently  and  with 
annimation,  though  he  had  not  recovered  his  mem- 
ory." (?) 


ous,  reserved,  industrious.  Suddenly  she 
would  fall  asleep,  lose  consciousness,  and  on 
returning  to  herself,  she  was  found  to  be  in 
the  second  state.  Her  character  is  now  al- 
tered. She  is  gay,  talkative,  imaginative, 
coquettish.  "  She  remembers  perfectly  all 
that  occurred  in  other  like  states  before,  as 
well  as  what  occurred  in  her  normal  state. " 
Then  after  a  longer  or  shorter  period  she 
again  falls  into  a  stupor.  On  coming  out  of 
this  she  resumes  her  first  state.  But  now  she 
has  forgotten  all  that  occurred  in  her  second 
state,  remetr.bering  only  the  occurrences  of 
her  prior  normal  states.  I  may  add  that  as 
she  grows  older  the  periods  of  the  normal 
state  became  shorter  and  shorter,  and  farther 
apart,  and  the  transition  from  one  state  to 
the  other  now  takes  place  instantaneously, 
whereas  before  it  used  to  take  ten  minutes. 

Such  are  the  main  features  of  this  case. 
So  far  as  it  concerns*  our  particular  inquiry, 
it  may  be  summed  up  in  a  few  words.  The 
patient  passes  alternately  from  one  state  to 
the  other;  in  the  one,  she  possesses  all  her 
memory;  in  the  other,  she  has  but  a  partial 
memory  covering  all  states  of  the  same  kind. 

The  case  observed  by  Dr.  Dufay,  at  Blois, 
is  very  like  this.  During  the  period  answer- 
ing to  Felida's  "second  state,"  Dr.  Dufay's 
patient  "  recollects  the  most  trifling  occur- 
rence of  her  normal  or  of  her  somnabulistic 
state."  There  is  also  the  same  alternation  of 
character,  and  in  her  period  of  perfect  mem- 
ory she  speaks  of  her  normal  state  as  the 
"  etat  bete  " — the  "  brute  state  ' 

It  is  important  to  observ  fcl/w,  in  this 
form  of  periodic  amnesia,  a  .<:  portion  of  the 
memory  is  never  affected  bi.»  persists  through 
both  states.  "  In  both  ulates,"  says  Dr. 
Azam,  "the  patient  can  read,  write,  count, 
and  use  the  scissors  or  the  needle  as  well  as 
ever  she  could."  There  is  not,  as  there  was 
in  the  case  cited  by  Macnish,  a  perfect  scis- 
sion between  the  two  states:  the  semi-conscious 
states  of  memory  are  equally  active  in  both. 

III. — To  complete  our  exposition  of  the  dif- 
ferent modes  of  periodic  amnesia  we  will  de- 
scribe certain  cases  which  present  only  some  of 
its  elements;  they  are  seen  in  somnambulism, 
whether  natural  or  induced.  As  a  rule, 
somnambulists, on  coming  to  themselves,  have 
no  recollection  of  what  they  said  or  did,  but 
each  crisis  brings  back  the  recollection  of  the 
preceding  crisis.  There  are  exceptions  to 
this  law,  but  they  are  rare.  Macario's  narra- 
tive has  often  been  cited,  of  a  girl  who  hav- 
ing been  violated  during  a  fit  of  somnambu- 
lism, had  no  cognizance  of  the  fact  on  awak- 
ening, but  who  in  her  next  somnambulistic 
state  made  it  known  to  her  mother.  Dr. 
Mesnet  witnessed  a  patient's  attempt  at  sui- 
cide made  with  a  good  deal  of  judgment 
during  two  consecutive  fits  of  somnambulism. 
A  young  maid  servant  every  evening  for 
three  months  thought  she  was  a  bishop,  act- 
ing and  speaking  in  that  character;  and  Ham- 
ilton speaks  of  a  poor  apprentice  who  as  toon 


THE   DISEASES   OF    MEMORY. 


25 


as  he  fell  asleep  believed  himself  to  be  the 
fa*her  of  a  family,  wealthy,  a  senator:  every 
night  he  would  recount  his  story  in  due  order, 
in  a  loud  voice,  and  if  any  one  asked  him 
about  his  apprenticeship,  he  would  say  that 
he  was  no  apprentice.  But  it  is  useless  to 
multiply  examples;  they  exist  in  abundance, 
and  they  all  show  that  side  by  side  with  the 
normal  memory  there  is  formed,  during 
paroxysms,  a  partial,  temporary,  parasitic 
memory. 

In  summing  up  the  general  characters  of 
periodic  amnesia  as  exhibited  in  the  phenom- 
ena, we  find  in  the  first  place  the  formation 
of  two  memo?  ies. 

In  the  perfect  form  of  periodic  amnesia  (e. 
g.,  Macnish's  case)  the  two  memories  are  mu- 
tually exclusive — the  one  appearing,  the 
other  disappears.  Each  suffices  for  itself  ; 
each  has,  ro  to  speak,  its  own  outfit.  That 
organized  memory  whereby  we  are  able  to 
speak,  write,  read,  is  not  common  to  the  two 
states,  but  for  each  state  there  is  form- 
ed a  distinct  memory  of  words,  and  of 
graphic  signs,  and  of  the  mode  of  tracing 
them. 

In  the  incomplete  form  (cases  reported  by 
Azam  and  Dufay, also  in  somnambulism)  there 
is  alternating  with  the  normal  memory  a  par- 
tial memory.  The  former  includes  all  the 
states  of  consciousness;  the  latter  only  a  re- 
stricted group  of  states  which  separate  them- 
selves from  the  others,  and  form  in  the  life  of 
the  individual  a  series  of  fragments  linked 
together.  But  the  two  memories  have  a 
common  ground  in  the  less  stable,  less  con- 
scious forms  of  memory,  which  enter  equally 
into  both  groups. 

The  result  of  this  scission  of  the  memory 
is  that  the  individual  seems  to  himself,  or  at 
least  to  others,  as  though  he  led  a  two-fold 
life — a  natural  illusion,  for  the  Ego  consists 
(or  seems  to  consist)  in  the  possibility  of 
associating  with  present  states — states  that 
are  recognized,  i.  e.,  localized  in  the  past, 
according  to  processes  which  we  have  striven 
lo  describe.  Here  we  have  two  distinct 
centers  of  association  or  attraction,  each  at- 
tracting one  group  of  facts,  and  in  no  wise 
affecting  other  groups. 

It  is  evident  that  this  formation  of  two 
memories,  each  totally  or  partially  excluding 
t.he  other  cannot  be  a  normal  fact.  It  is  the 
symptom  of  a  morbid  process — the  psychic 
^xpression  of  a  disorder,  the  nature  of  which 
remains  to  be  determined.  And  this  leads 
us,  much  to  our  regret,  to  treat  in  an  inci- 
dental way  a  large  question — that  of  the  con- 
ditions of  personality. 

First,  we  must  lay  aside  the  idea  of  an 
Ego  regarded  as  an  entity  distinct  from  states 
of  consciousness.  Such  hypothesis  is  both 
useless  and  self-contradictory;  it  is  an  ex- 
planation worthy  only  of  a  psychology  in  its 
infant  state,  that  takes  that  to  be  simple 
which  so  appears,  and  which  invents  instead 
of  explaining.  I  accept  the  opinion  of  con- 


temporary scholars  who  recognize  in  the  con. 
scious  person  a  something  composite,  a  re- 
sultant of  highly  complex  acts. 

The  Ego,  as  it  appears  to  itself,  consists 
of  a  sum  of  states  of  consciousness.  There 
is  a  principal  state  of  consciousness  around 
which  secondary  states  are  grouped  and  which 
these  tend  to  supplant,  they  themselves 
being  in  turn  pressed  by  other  states  that  are 
hardly  states  of  consciousness  at  all.  The 
state  which  acts  the  principal  part,  after  a 
longer  or  shorter  contest,  gives  way,  being 
displaced  by  another  around  which  we  have 
another  similar  grouping.  The  mechanism 
of  consciousness  may  be  compared,  without 
any  metaphor,  with  that  of  vision.  In  the 
latter  there  is  a  visual  point  which  alone  gives 
a  clear  and  definite  sense  perception;  round 
about  this  is  afield  of  vision  which  grows 
less  and  less  clear  and  definite  in  proportion 
as  it  recedes  from  the  center  and  approaches 
the  circumference.  Our  Ego  is  at  each  mo- 
ment— that  present  that  is  ever  being  re- 
newed— in  great  part  re-constituted  by  mem- 
ory; that  is  to  say,  to  the  present  state  are 
associated  other  states  which,  being  thrown 
back  into  and  localized  in  the  past,  constitute 
our  personality  as  it  appears  at  each  moment. 
In  a  word,  the  Ego  may  be  considered  in  two 
ways — either  in  its  actually  present  state,  and 
then  it  is  the  sum  of  our  actually  present 
states  of  consciousness;  or  in  its  continuity 
with  the  past,  and  then  it  is  formed  by  mem- 
ory according  to  a  process  we  have  already 
described. 

From  this  it  might  appear  as  though  the 
identity  of  the  Ego  rested  entirely  on  mem- 
ory; but  that  view  takes  note  only  of  a  part 
of  the  facts.  Under  the  instable  compound 
that  is  each  moment  forming,  breaking  up, 
and  forming  again,  there  stands  something 
that  persists,  viz.,  that  dim  consciousness 
which  is  the  result  of  all  the  vital  actions 
which  constitutes  our  perception  of  our  own 
bodies,  and  which  has  been  designated  by 
one  word — ccentzsthesis.  Our  apprehension 
of  it  is  so  vague  that  it  is  difficult  to  speak  of 
it  in  precise  language.  It  is  a  state  which, 
being  perpetually  repeated,  makes  no  special 
impression  on  consciousness,  and  is  like  a 
habit.  But  though  it  is  felt  neither  in  itself 
nor  in  the  gradual  variations  which  constitute 
the  normal  state  of  the  organism,  it  some- 
times undergoes  instantaneous  or  rapid  varia- 
tions which  change  the  personality.  All 
alienists  teach  that  the  incubation  period  of 
mental  diseases  is  indicated  not  by  intellect- 
ual disturbance,  but  by  changes  in  character 
— and  character  is  simply  the  psychic  aspect 
of  ccenaesthesis.  So,  too,  we  know  that  an 
organic  lesion  may  transform  the  coenaes- 
thesis;  substituting  for  the  ordinary  sense 
of  existence  a  feeling  of  sadness,  distress, 
anxiety,  without  cause,  as  the  patient  sup- 
poses; or  again  it  may  inspire  feelings  of 
gladness,  satisfaction,  buoyancy,  perfect  con- 
tentment— deceptive  indications  of  grave 


26 


THE   DISEASES   OF   MEMORY. 


disorganization,  the  most  striking  illustration 
of  which  is  seen  in  what  has  been  called  the 
euphoria  of  the  dying.  All  these  changes 
have  a  physiological  cause;  they  represent  its 
echo  in  the  consciousness;  and  to  say  that 
while  these  variations  are  felt  the  normal 
state  is  not  felt,  is  in  effect  to  affirm  that  our 
normal  life  is  not  a  mode  of  living  because  it 
is  monotonous.  This  ccenaesthesis  which,  just 
because  it  is  perpetually  repeated,  lies  below 
the  plane  of  consciousness  is  the  true  basis 
of  personality.  And  it  is  so  because,  being 
always  present,  always  active,  without  rest 
or  respite,  it  knows  neither  sleep  nor  fainting, 
and  endures  as  long  as  life  itself,  of  which 
indeed  it  is  but  one  form.  This  it  is  which 
serves  as  the  ground  of  the  conscious  Ego 
constituted  by  memory;  it  is  this  which 
makes  associations  possible  and  when  formed 
maintains  them. 

Hence  the  unity  of  the  Ego  is  not  a  mathe- 
matical point,  but  that  of  a  highly  complex 
mechanism.  It  is  a  consensus  of  vital  pro- 
cesses coordinated  first  by  tne  nervous  sys- 
tem, the  great  coordinating  agency  of  the  or- 
ganism, and  then  by  the  consciousness,  whose 
natural  form  is  unity.  It  is  in  fact  of  the 
very  nature  of  psychic  states  that  they  can 
coexist  only  in  a  very  small  number,  grouped 
round  one  principal  state  which  alone  repre- 
sents consciousness  in  its  fullness. 

Suppose,  now,  that  we  could  instantly 
change  our  body  and  put  another  in  its  place 
— skeleton,  vessels,  viscera,  muscles,  all  new 
except  the  nervous  system,  which  remains 
the  same,  with  all  its  past  duly  registered. 
There  is  no  doubt  but  that  in  such  case  the 
afflux  of  unwonted  life-sensations  would  pro- 
duce the  greatest  confusion.  Between  the 
old  ccenaesthesis,  impressed  on  the  nervous 
system, and  the  new  coensesthesis  acting  with 
the  intensity  of  everything  new  and  unwonted, 
there  would  be  irreconcilable  opposition.  This 
hypothesis  is  realized  to  a  certain  extent  in 
morbid  cases.  Some  oDscure  organic  trouble 
occasionally  so  modifies  the  coensesthesis  that 
the  subject  believes  himself  to  be  made  of 
stone,  or  butter,  or  wax,  or  wood;  that  he  is 
of  the  opposite  sex,  or  that  he  is  dead.  But 
apart  from  morbid  cases,  consider  what  takes 
place  at  puberty:  "  When  certain  parts  of  the 
body  that  before  were  inactive  assume  the 
active  state,  a  complete  revolution  takes 
place  in  the  organism.  A  mass  of  new  sen- 
sations, new  desires,  new  imaginings,  more 
or  less  distinct,  new  impulses  come  into  the 
consciousness  in  a  relatively  brief  space  of 
time.  Little  by  little  they  penetrate  within 
the  circle  of  the  thoughts  of  longer  standing, 
and  form  an  integral  part  of  the  Ego.  The 
latter  becomes  a  different  being:  it  is  trans- 
formed, and  the  feeling  of  us  self-hood  un- 
dergoes a  radical  metamorphosis.  Until 
Assimilation  is  complete,  this  penetration  and 
this  dissociation  of  the  primitive  Ego  can 
hardly  be  brought  about  without  great  com- 
motion of  the  consciousness  and  tumultuous 


disturbance."*  It  may  be  affirmed  that 
whenever  changes  in  the  ccenaesthesis,  instead 
of  being  insensible  or  temporary,  are  rapid 
and  permanent,  discord  arises  between  the 
two  elements  that  constitute  our  personality 
in  the  normal  state — the  general  sense  of  our 
body  (coensesthesis)  and  conscious  memory. 
If  the  new  state  holds  its  own,  it  becomes  a 
center  round  which  new  associations  group 
themselves;  thus  is  formed  a  new  complex,  a 
new  Ego.  The  antagonism  between  these 
two  centers  of  attraction — the  old,  which  is 
tending  to  dissolution,  and  the  new,  which  is 
in  process  of  development — produces  different 
results  according  to  circumstances.  Some- 
times the  original  Ego  disappears,  ?fter  en- 
riching the  new  with  its  accumulated  acqui- 
sitions, that  is,  with  a  portion  of  the  associa- 
tions of  which  it  consisted.  Again,  the  twa 
Egos  alternate,  neither  supplanting  the  other. 
Sometimes  the  original  Ego  exists  no  longer 
save  in  memory,  but  not  being  connected 
with  any  coensesthesis,  it  appears  to  the  new 
as  something  extraneous,  f 

The  object  of  the  foregoing  digression  was 
to  assign  logical  ground  for  what  had  before 
rested  on  mere  assertion;  namely,  that  peri- 
odic amnesia  is  only  a  secondary  phenome- 
non ;  its  cause  is  to  be  found  in  a  vital  dis- 
turbance, the  general  sense  of  existence 
(ccenaesthesis)  which,  prooerly  speaking,  is 
simply  the  sense  of  '.he  unity  of  our  body, 
passing  through  two  alternate  phases.  This 
is  the  prime  cause  which  produces  the  form- 
ation of  two  association-centers,  and  con- 
sequently of  two  memories. 

Pursuing  our  investigation  further,  other 
questions  meet  us,  to  which  unfortunately  we 
can  make  no  reply,  * 

1 .  What  is  the  physiological  cause  of  these 
rapid  and  regular  variations  of  ccensesthesis? 
Only  hypothetical  replies  have  been  offered 
(state  of  the  vascular  system,  inhibitory  ac- 
tion, etc.). 

2.  Why  is  each  form  of  ccenaesthesis  con- 
nected with  certain  forms  of  association,  to 
the  exclusion  of  others?    We  do  not  know, 
and  can  only  say  that  in  periodic  amnesia 
the  retention  of  impressions  remains  intact; 
that  is  to   say,    the  cell    modifications    and 
dynamic  associations  remain;  the  power  of 
recalling  them  is  alone  affected.     The  asso- 
ciations have  two  starting  points:  one  state 
(A)  may  call  out  certain  groups,  but   is  in- 
capable of  avkkening  other  groups;  another 


*  Griesinger,  "  Traite  des  Maladies  Mentales,"  p. 
55.  ft  scq. 

t  Thus  I  explain  a  case  mentioned  by  Leuret 
I  ("  Fragments  psych,  sur  la  folie,"  p.  277).  An  insane 
'  -woman  who  spoke  of  herself  as  "taflersonne  de  moi- 
tiieme"  ("The  person  of  myself "),  had  retained  a 
very  distinct  memory  of  her  life  down  to  the  begin- 
ning of  her  insanity,  but  she  referred  that  period  of 
her  life  to  another  person.  Of  her  former  Ego  noth- 
ing but  the  recollection  remained.  Much  might  be 
said  of  such  confusion  of  personality,  but  the  discus- 
sion would  lake  us  beyond  the  subject  we  are  treat- 
ing. 


THE   DISEASES  OF   MEMORY. 


27 


state  (B)  does  the  reverse.  Some  groups 
enter  equally  into  both  complexes  (incom- 
plete scission). 

In  short,  two  physiological  states,  by  their 
alternation,  determine  two  coenaestheses,  and 
these  determine  two  forms  of  association, 
and  consequently,  two  memories. 

To  complete  our  observations  on  this  sub- 
ject, it  is  well  to  refer  briefly  to  the  natural 
connection  established,  in  spite  of  interrup- 
tions, sometimes  of  considerable  dura- 
tion, between  periods  of  the  same  kind,  and 
particularly  between  different  fits  of  somnam 
bulism.  This  fact,  interesting  as  it  is  on 
several  accouncs,  can  be  considered  here  only 
so  far  as  it  exhibits  a  periodical  and  regular 
return  of  the  same  recollections.  Abnormal 
as  it  may  at  first  appear,  it  is  entirely  logical 
and  in  full  agreement  with  our  conception  of 
the  Ego.  For  if  the  Ego  at  each  instant  is 
but  the  sum  of  the  actual  states  of  conscious- 
ness and  of  the  vital  processes  in  which  con- 
sciousness has  its  root,  it  follows  that  every 
time  that  this  physiological  and  psychological 
complex  shall  be  constituted,  the  Ego  will  be 
the  same  and  the  same  associations  will  be 
called  up.  In  each  attack  a  special  physio- 
logical state  is  produced ;  the  senses  are 
closed  to  nearly  all  external  excitations,  and 
consequently  many  associations  can  no  longer 
be  awakened.  There  is  a  simplification  of 
the  mental  life:  it  is  reduced  almost  to  a  me- 
chanical condition.  These  states,  by  their 
very  simplicity  very  closely  resemble  one  an- 
other, and  differ  totally  from  the  waking 
state.  It  is,  therefore,  natural  that  the  same 
conditions  should  produce  the  same  effects, 
that  the  same  elements  should  give  rise  to 
the  same  combinations,  and  thst  the  same 
associations  should  be  awakened  to  the  ex- 
clusion of  others.  They  find  in  the  patho- 
logical state  their  conditions  of  existence, 
which  in  the  normal  state  either  are  wanting, 
or  are  in  antagonism  with  many  other  condi- 
tions. 

In  the  state  of  health  and  in  the  waking 
state  the  phenomena  of  consciousness  are  so 
varied,  so  numerous,  that  the  same  combina- 
tion has  little  chance  of  being  awakened 
many  times  in  succession,  though  in  certain 
abnormal  cases  this  is  seen  to  occur,  under 
the  action  of  unknown  causes.  A  clergy- 
man, says  Dr.  Reynolds,  apparently  in  good 
health,  went  through  the  pulpit  service  one 
Sunday  morning  with  perfect  consistency, 
his  choice  of  hymns  and  lessons,  and  his  ex- 
tempore prayer  being  all  related  to  the  sub- 
ject of  the  sermon.  The  Sunday  following 
he  went  through  the  service  in  precisely  the 
same  manner,  selecting  the  same  hymns  and 
lessons,  making  the  same  prayer,  giving  out 
the  same  text,  and  preaching  the  same  ser- 
mon. On  descending  from  the  pulpit  he  had 
not  the  slightest  remembrance  of  having  gone 
through  precisely  the  same  service  on  the 
preceding  Sunday.  He  was  much  alarmed, 


and  feared  an  attack  of  brain  disease,  but 
nothing  of  the  kind  supervened.* 

A  like  return  of  memory  sometimes  occurs> 
in  drunkenness,  as  in  the  well-known  case  of 
the  Irish  porter,  who,  having  lost  a  package- 
while  drunk,  got  drunk  again,  and  remem- 
bered where  he  had  left  it. 

As  has  been  already  said,  cases  of  periodic 
amnesia,  curious  though  they  may  be,  teach- 
us  more  as  to  the  nature  of  the  Ego  than  as- 
to  the  nature  ot  memory.  Still  they  are  in- 
structive, and  we  will  return  to  them  in  tht 
next  paragraph. 

III. 

Progressive  amnesia  is  that  form  which  by 
a  slow  and  continuous  process  of  dissolution 
leads  to  complete  abolition  of  memory.  This 
definition  applies  to  the  majority  of  cases, 
and  it  is  only  in  exceptional  instances  that 
the  morbid  evolution  fails  to  result  in  total 
extinction.  The  process  of  the  disease  is- 
very  simple  and  does  not  impress  the  imagin- 
ation, precisely  because  it  is  gradual,  but  it 
is  highly  instructive  because,  in  showing  how 
the  memory  is  disorganized,  it  teaches  us  how- 
it  is  organized. 

Here  we  are  not  called  upon  to  cite  special 
cases  of  rare  occurrence  or  of  exceptional 
character.  It  suffices  to  describe  just  one 
morbid  type  that  is  very  nearly  constant. 

The  primary  cause  of  the  disease  is  some 
progressive  lesion  of  the  brain — cerebral 
hemorrhage,  apoplexy,  softening  of  the  brain,, 
general  paralysis,  senile  atrophy  and  the  like. 
In  the  early  stages  there  exist  only  partial 
disorders.  The  patient  is  subject  to  frequent 
moments  of  forgetfulness,  always  with  re- 
spect to  recent  occurrences.  If  he  drops  the 
work  he  happens  to  be  doing,  he  forgets  to. 
take  it  up  again.  The  events  of  yesterday 
and  the  day  before,  the  order  he  has  received, 
the  resolution  he  has  taken — all  are  blotted 
out  at  once.  This  partial  amnesia  is  the 
habitual  symptom  of  incipient  general  paral- 
ysis. Lunatic  asylums  are  full  of  patients 
belonging  to  this  category  who,  the  day  after 
they  are  received,  declare  that  they  have 
been  a  year,  five  years,  ten  years  in  the  in- 
stitution. They  have  only  a  faint  remem- 
brance of  having  left  their  homes  and  fami- 
lies; they  cannot  tell  the  day  of  the  week  nor 
the  month  of  the  year.  But  their  memory 
of  what  they  did  and  what  they  learned  be- 
fore the  onset  of  the  disease  is  still  intact. 
It  is  a  familiar  observation  that  in  aged  per- 
sons the  characteristic  failure  of  memory  has 
reference  to  recent  occurrences. 

That  is  about  as  far  as  the  data  of  the  re- 
ceived psychology  go.  The  conclusion  would 
seem  to  be  that  the  dissolution  of  memory 
does  not  follow  any  law.  I  will  offer  proof 
to  the  contrary. 

To  discover  the  law  we  must  make  a  psy- 
chological study  of  the  progress  of  demen- 


*  Apud.  Carpenter,  oj>.  cit.,  p.  444. 


THE   DISEASES   OF   MEMORY. 


tia. '  When  the  premonitory  stages,  of  which 
we  Jiave  spoken,  are  past,  there  supervenes 
•a  general  and  gradual  enfeeblement  of  all 
the  faculties,  till  at  last  the  individual  is  re- 
duced to  a  purely  vegetative  life.  Physicians 
distinguish  several  species  of  dementia,  as 
senile,  paralytic,  epileptic,  etc.,  according  to 
the  cause  which  produces  it.  These  dis- 
tinctions do  not  concern  us.  The  break-up 
of  the  mind  is  always  the  same  thing  what- 
ever the  cause  may  be,  and  in  it  alone  are  we 
interested.  The  question  therefore  is,  in 
this  breaking  up  of  the  mind,  does  the  loss 
of  memory  proceed  in  a  fixed  order  ? 

The  many  alienists  who  have  described 
•dementia  have  not  dwelt  on  this  question,  as 
it  has  no  importance  for  them.  Their  testi- 
mony, therefore,  will  be  all  the  more  valuable 
if  we  can  find  an  answer  in  their  writings: 
•And  we  do.  On  consulting  the  best  authors 
(Griesinger,  Baillarger,  Falret,  Foville.  etc.,) 
we  learn  that  the  amnesia,  at  first  restricted 
to  recent  events,  later  extends  to  ideas,  then 
to  feelings  and  affections,  and  finally  to  acts. 
Here  we  have  all  the  data  of  a  law.  To  de- 
termine what  the  law  is  we  have  only  to  ex- 
amine successively  these  several  groups. 

I.  That  the  weakening  of  the  memory  first 
affects  the  recollection  of  recent  events  is  an 
•observation  so  familiar  that  we  fail  to  notice 
how  it  contradicts  our  a  priori  ideas.  One 
would  suppose  that  the  most  recent  occur- 
rences, those  nearest  to  the  present  would  be 
the  most  stable,  the  most  distinctly  remem- 
bered, and  such  is  in  fact  the  case  in  the 
normal  state.  But  at  the  setting  in  of  de- 
mentia there  occurs  a  serious  anatomical 
lesion — the  degeneration  of  the  nerve  cells 
begins.  These  elements,  tending  to  atrophy, 
•can  no  longer  retain  new  impressions.  In 
more  precise  language,  no  new  modification 
of  the  cells,  and  no  formation  of  new  dynam- 
ic associations  is  possible,  or  at  least  durable. 
The  anatomical  conditions  of  stability  and 
reviviscence  are  wanting.  If  the  perception 
is  entirely  new,  it  is  not  registered  in  the 
nerve  centers  and  is  instantly  blotted  out.  If 
it  is  only  a  repetition  of  prior  experiences 
that  are  still  vivid,  the  patient  refers  the  per- 
ception to  the  past;  the  concomitant  circum- 
stances of  the  actual  perception  are  quickly 
effaced,  and  cannot  be  localized  in  time.  But 
the  modifications  fixed  years  before  in  the 
nerve  elements  and  now  become  organic;  the 
dynamic  associations  and  groups  of  associa- 
tions that  have  been  repeated  hundreds  and 
thousands  of  times  still  persist;  they  have 
greater  power  of  resistance  to  meet  destructive 
forces.  Thus  is  explained  the  paradox  of 
memory,  that  the  new  dies  before  the  old. 

2.  Soon  this  old-time  store  of  organic  and 
•conscious  memories,  on  which  the  patient  for 
a  time  subsists,  is  in  turn  dissipated.  His 
intellectual  acquisitions  are  lost,  one  after 


*  The  term  is  used  here  in  its  medical  sense,  not  as 
i  synonym  of  insanity  in  general. 


another  (scientific,  artistic,  professional 
knowledge,  languages,  etc.).  His  personal 
recollections  fade  away,  those  of  later  years 
first,  those  of  childhood  last.  When  the 
process  of  decay  is  in  an  advanced  stage,  the 
stories  and  ditties  of  childhood  even  return. 
Often  the  demented  forget  in  great  part  their 
own  language.  A  few  expressions  are  re- 
membered by  accident,  but  commonly  the 
patient  repeats  automatically  the  words  he 
retains.  The  anatomical  cause  of  this  intel- 
lectual dissolution  is  an  atrophy  which,  little 
by  little,  invades  the  cortex  of  the  brain,  and 
then  the  white  matter,  producing  a  fatty  and 
atheromatous  degeneration  of  the  cells,  tubes 
and  capillaries  of  the  nerve-substance. 

3.  It  has  been  noticed  by  the  best  observers 
that  the  affectional  faculties  are  extinguished 
far  more  slowly  than  the  intellectual.     It  may 
at  first  seem  strange  that  states  so  vague  as 
those  of  feeling  and  sentiment  should  be  more 
stable  than   ideas   and  intellectual  states  in 
general.     But  reflection  shows  that  the  feel- 
ings are  the  deepest,   the  inmost,  the  most 
persistent  features  of  our  mental  constitution. 
Whereas  the   intelligence   is   something  ac- 
quired and  as  it  were  external  to  us,  the  feel- 
ings are  inborn.     Considered  in  their  origin, 
aside   from  any  refined   and   complex  forms 
they  may  assume,    they  are   the  direct  and 
permanent  expression  of  our  organism.    Tha 
viscera,  muscles,  bones — every  tissue  of  our 
bodies  contributes  its  share  toward  their  form- 
ation.    What  are  we  but  our  feelings  and 
sentiments  ?  to  forget  them  is  to  forget  our- 
selves.    Hence  amnesia  of  the  feelings  must 
naturally  occur  only  at  a  period  when  disor- 
ganization has  gone  so  far  that  the  personality 
begins  to  break  up. 

4.  The  acquisitions  that  longest  withstand 
dissolution   are   those  whi*h   are   almost  en- 
tirely organic — the   daily   routine,  habits   to 
which  we  have  long  been  addicted.     Many 
patients   can   arise    in    the   morning,    dress 
themselves,  take  their  meals  regularly,  go  to 
bed,  engage  in  manual  labor,  play  cards  and 
other    games,    sometimes    with    remarkable 
skill,    though   the  judgment,    the   will,    the 
affections  are  extinguished.     This  automatic 
activity,  which  presupposes  only  a  minimum 
of  conscious  memory,  belongs  to  that  lower 
form  of  memory  for  which  the  cerebral  gan- 
glia, the  medulla  and  the  spinal  cord  suffice. 

The  progressive  destruction  of  the  mem- 
ory therefore  follows  a  logical  course,  a  law. 
//  descends  progressively  from  the  instable  to 
the  stable.  It  begins  with  the  recent  recollec- 
tions which,  being  but  faintly  impressed  on 
the  nerve  elements,  seldom  repeated,  and 
consequently  but  feebly  associated  with  other 
recollections,  represent  organization  in  its 
lowest  stage.  It  ends  with  that  sensorial, 
instinctive  memory  which,  being  rooted  in 
the  organism  and  become  a  pyt  of  it,  or 
rather  become  the  organism  itself,  -epresents 
organization  in  its  most  pronounced  aspect. 
From  the  initial  to  the  final  term  theorogres* 


THE    DISEASES  OF    MEMORY. 


of  amnesia,  determined  by  the  nature  of 
things,  follows  the  line  of  least  resistance, 
that  is,  of  least  organization.  Thus  pathol- 
ogy fully  bears  out  what  we  have  said  with 
regard  to  memory.  It  is  a  process  of  organ- 
ization in  varying  degrees  between  two  ex- 
treme limits:  the  new  state,  organic  registra- 
tion. 

This  law,  which  I  shall  call  the  Law  of 
Regression  or  of  Reversion,  seems  to  rest  on 
facts  and  to  be  objectively  true.  Still,  to 
remove  all  doubt  and  to  obviate  every  objec- 
tion, I  propose  to  verify  this  law  by  a 
counter  demonstration. 

If  memory,  when  failing,  follows  invariably 
the  course  indicated,  then  it  must  follow  the 
reverse  course  when  it  is  in  process  of  restora- 
tion: the  forms  that  disappear  last  must  re- 
appear first,  for  they  are  the  most  stable;  and 
the  process  of  restoration  must  be  an  ascend- 
ing one. 

It  is  very  difficult  to  find  cases  in  proof. 
In  the  first  place  the  memory  must  return  of 
its  own  accord:  cases  of  re-education  prove 
but  little.  Again,  recovery  from  progressive 
amnesia  is  of  rare  occurrence.  Finally,  as" 
attention  has  never  been  directed  to  this 
point,  nothing  is  to  be  found  upon  it  in  the 
books.  Physicians,  whose  attention  is  en- 
grossed with  the  other  symptoms  are  content- 
to  observe  that  memory  "returns  little  by 
little." 

Louyer-Villermay  in  his  essay,  quoted  above 
observes  that  "memory  when  in  process  of 
re-establishment,  follows  an  order  inverse  to 
that  followed  when  m  decay:  events,  adject- 
ives, substantives,  proper  names."  But  little 
is  t  D  be  drawn  from  this  not  over-precise  re- 
mark. 

Here  is  something  more  definite:  "  Late- 
ly a  celebrated  Russian  astronomer  forgot, 
successively,  the  events  of  the  previous  day, 
then  those  of  the  year,  then  those  of  the 
years  last  past,  and  so  on,  the  chasm  grad- 
ually increasing,  till  at  last  he  could  only 
recollect  the  events  of  his  childhood.  His 
case  was  considered  hopeless;  but  by  a  sud- 
den stop  and  unforeseen  return,  the  blank 
was  filled  up  in  an  inverted  manner;  the 
events  of  his  youth  first  reappearing,  then 
those  of  his  manhood,  and  finally  the  more 
recent,  those  of  the  previous  day.  His  mem- 
ory was  wholly  restored  at  the  time  of  his 
death."* 

The  following  observation  is  still  more  to 
the  point:  the  facts  were  noted  in  this  in- 
stance hour  by  hour.  I  quote  the  greater 
part  of  the  narrative:  f 

"  I  must  in  the  first  place  mention  two  de- 
tails of  no  great  importance  in  themselves, 
but  which  need  to  be  noted  because  they  are 
connected  with  a  remarkable  phenomenon. 
Toward  the  end  of  November,  an  officer  of 


*  Taine,  "  Intelligence,"  Part  i,  Bk.  ii,  ch.  ii. 

t "  Observation  sur  un  cas  de  perte  de  Memoire," 
by  Koempfen  in  the  "  Meraoire*  do  1" Academic  de 
Medeciae,"  1835,  rol.  IT,  p.  489. 


my  regiment  suffered  an  injury  to  the  left 
foot  from  the  chafing  of  the  boot.  On  No* 
vember  30  he  went  to  Versailles  to  visit  hU 
brother.  He  dined  in  Versailles  and  in  th« 
evening  went  back  to  Paris,  and  on  entering 
his  lodging  found  on  the  mantelpiece  a  lettei 
from  his  father. 

' '  Now  for  the  principal  fact.  On  Decem- 
ber i  this  officer  was  at  the  riding  school,  and 
his  horse  having  fallen,  he  was  thrown  to  the 
ground,  falling  0.1  his  right  side,  particularly 
on  his  right  parietal  bone.  The  concussion 
was  followed  by  a  slight  syncope.  Coming 
to  himself  he  mounted  his  horse  again  '  to- 
get  rid  of  a  trace  of  giddiness,'  and  contin- 
ued his  lesson  in  horsemanship  for  three- 
quarters  of  an  hour.  Still  he  would  now 
and  then  remark  to  the  groom,  '  I  am  coming 
out  of  a  dream.  What  is  the  matter  with 
me  ?'  He  was  taken  to  his  lodging. 

"  As  I  lived  in  the  same  house,  I  was  sum- 
moned immediately.  He  was  standing  as  I 
entered,  recognized  me,  saluted  me  as  usual, 
and  said,  '  I  am  like  one  coming  out  of  a 
dream:  what  is  the  matter  with  me?'  His, 
utterance  was  unimpeded.  He  answered  all 
questions  rationally.  He  complained  only  of 
a  buzzing  in  his  head. 

"Though  questioned  by  myself,  his  groom, 
and  his  servant,  he  remembered  neither  the 
injury  of  two  days  before,  his  journey  to 
Versailles  on  the  day  before,  his  leaving  the 
house  in  the  morning,  his  orders  to  his  do- 
mestic on  going  out,  his  fall,  nor  anything 
that  followed  thereafter.  He  fully  recognized 
his  friends,  called  each  by  name,  knew  that 
he  was  an  officer,  knew  the  day  of  the  week> 
and  so  on. 

"  I  never  allowed  an  hour  to  pass  without 
noting  his  condition.  At  every  call,  he  al- 
ways thought  I  had  come  then  for  the  first 
time.  He  remembered  none  of  the  prescrip- 
tions he  had  been  following — footbaths,  fric- 
tion, etc. ;  in  short  for  him  nothing  existed 
but  the  action  of  the  present  moment.  Six 
hours  after  the  accident  his  pulse  commenced 
to  grow  quicker  and  he  began  to  retain  in 
mind  the  answer  so  many  times  made  to  his 
question — '  You  had  a  fall  from  your  horse  ? 
Eight  hours  after  the  accident,  his  pulse  still 
rising,  he  remembered  having  seen  me  there 
once.  Two  hours  and  a-half  later,  the  pulse 
being  normal,  he  forgot  nothing  that  was 
said  to  him.  He  then  distinctly  recollected 
the  injury  to  his  foot;  and  was  also  begin- 
ning to  remember  his  visit  to  Versailles,  but 
this  in  so  uncertain  a  way  that  were  any  one 
to  declare  positively  the  contrary,  he  would 
have  been  inclined  to  believe  him.  But  mem- 
ory coming  back  more  and  more,  he  became 
assured  during  the  evening  that  he  had  been 
at  Versailles.  There  the  progress  for  that 
day  stood  still.  When  he  went  to  sleep,  he 
was  still  unable  to  remember  what  he  had 
done  at  Versailles,  how  he  had  come  back  to 
Paris,  or  where  he  had  found  the  letter  from 
his  father. 


THE   DISEASES   OF   MEMORY. 


"On  December  2,  after  a  night  of  un- 
troubled sleep,  as  soon  as  he  awoke,  he  re- 
called in  succession  what  he  had  done  at  Ver- 
sailles, and  his  finding  the  letter  on  the  man- 
telpiece. But  he  still  knew  nothing  of  what 
he  had  done,  or  seen,  or  heard,  on  December 
I,  prior  to  the  accident — that  is  to  say,  he 
knew  nothing  of  his  own  knowledge,  but  only 
what  he  had  heard  from  others. 

"  The  loss  of  memory  was  in  the  inverse 
ratio  of  the  time  that  had  elapsed  between 
the  several  occurrences  and  his  fall,  and  the 
return  of  memory  was  distinctly  in  the  order 
from  the  more  remote  to  the  more  recent." 

This  observation,  made  without  any  inten- 
tion of  bolstering  up  any  hypothesis  by  a  man 
•who  seems  much  surprised  by  the  facts  he 
records,  strongly  confirms  our  law  of  regres- 
sion. True,  this  was  only  a  case  of  tempo- 
rary, limited  amnesia;  but  it  is  seen  that  even 
•within  these  narrow  limits  the  law  is  verified. 
I  regret  that  though  I  have  searched  a  good 
deal,  and  made  inquiries  in  many  quarters,  I 
am*  unable  to  lay  before  the  reader  many 
other  cases  of  this  kind.  But  when  attention 
has  been  called  to  the  matter,  I  hope  other 
•cases  will  come  to  light. 

Our  law,  therefore,  resting  as  it  does  on 
facts,  and  verified  by  this  counter  proof,  may 
•be  held  to  be  true  till  the  contrary  is  shown. 
Then  there  are  other  considerations  that  go 
to  corroborate  it. 

This  law,  however  universal  it  may  be  with 
regard  to  memory,  is  but  a  particular  expres- 
sion of  a  still  more  general  law — a  biological 
law.  It  is  a  fact  well  known  in  biology  that 
the  structures  that  are  latest  formed  are  the 
first  to  degenerate — a  fact,  says  a  physiolo- 
gist, analagous  to  what  takes  place  in  great 
commercial  crises.  The  old  houses  with- 
stand the  hurricane,  the  new  ones,  less  firm, 
.are  brought  down  on  all  sides.  Again,  in  the 
biological  world,  dissolution  'proceeds  in  an 
•order  inverse  to  that  of  evolution — it  proceeds 
from  the  complex  to  the  simple.  Hughlings 
Jackson  was  the  first  to  prove  in  detail  that 
the  higher,  complex,  voluntary  functions  of 
the  nervous  system  disappear  first,  and  that 
the  lower,  simple,  general  and  automatic 
functions  disappear  latest.  We  have  seen 
both  of  these  facts  verified  in  the  dissolution 
of  the  memory:  what  is  new  dies  out  earlier 
than  what  is  old,  what  is  complex  earlier  than 
what  is  simple.  The  law  we  have  formulated 
is  therefore  only  the  psychological  expression 
of  a  law  of  life;  and  pathology  in  turn  ex- 
hibits to  us  in  memory  a  biological  fact. 

The  study  of  periodic  amnesia  has  thrown 
new  light  on  our  subject.  In  teaching 
us  how  memory  is  constituted  and  how  de- 
stroyed, it  shows  what  memory  is.  It  has 
revealed  to  us  a  law  by  which  we  may  guide 
ourselves  through  the  multitudinous  varieties 
of  diseases  of  memory,  and  which  will  later 
enable  us  to  view  them  as  one  whole. 

Without  attempting  a  premature  summary 
wre  may  recall  what  has  just  been  said  :  First 


of  all,  and  in  every  case,  there  is  loss  of 
recent  recollections;  in  periodic  amnesia  there 
is  a  suspension  of  all  the  forms  of  memory 
except  the  semi-organized  and  the  organic; 
in  total  temporary  amnesia  there  is  complete 
abolition  of  memory,  except  the  organic 
forms;  in  one  case,  that  described  by  Mac- 
nish,  there  is  complete  abolition,  including 
the  organic  forms.  We  shall  see  in  the  next 
chapter  that  partial  disorders  of  memory  are 
governed  by  the  same  law  of  regression,  es- 
pecially that  most  important  group,  amnesia 
of  language. 

The  law  of  regression  accepted,  we  have 
next  to  determine  how  it  acts.  On  this  point 
I  shall  be  brief,  as  I  have  nothing  to  offer  but 
hypotheses. 

It  were  puerile  to  imagine  that  recollections 
are  deposited  on  the  brain  in  layers  in  the  order 
of  their  priority  in  time,  after  the  manner  of 
geological  strata;  and  that  disease,  descend- 
ing from  the  surface  down  to  the  deep- lying 
layers,  acts  after  the  manner  of  the  experi- 
mentalist who  removes  slice  after  slice  from 
the  brain  of  an  animal.  To  explain  the 
course  of  the  morbid  process  we  must  have 
resource  to  the  hypothesis  offered  above  with 
respect  to  the  physical  bases  of  memory.  I 
will  state  it  again  in  a  few  words  : 

It  is  in  the  highest  degree  probable  that 
recollections  have  the  same  anatomical  seat  as 
the  primary  impressions  and  that  they  call 
into  action  the  same  nerve-elements  (cells  and 
fibers).  These  elements  may  occupy  very 
diverse  positions — from  the  cortex  of  the 
brain  to  the  medulla.  Retention  and  repro- 
duction depend,  i.  On  a  certain  modification 
of  the  cells;  2.  On  the  formation  of  more  or 
less  complex  groups,  which  we  denominate 
dynamic  associations.  Such  are  the  physical 
bases  of  memory  as  we  conceive  them. 

The  primary  acquisitions — those  dating 
from  infancy — are  the  simplest,  namely,  the 
formation  of  automatic  secondary  move- 
ments, and  the  education  of  our  senses:  they 
depend  principally  on  the  medulla  and  on  the 
inferior  centers  of  the  brain:  and  as  we 
know,  the  cortex  is  at  this  period  of  life  im- 
perfectly developed.  r  mte  apart  from  their 
simplicity,  there  is  ,\rery  reason  why  they 
should  be  the  most  stable.  In  the  first  place 
the  nerve-elements,  when  they  receive  these 
primitive  impressions,  are  "virgin."  Nutri- 
tion is  in  infancy  very  active,  but  this  inces- 
sant molecular  renovation  serves  only  to  fix 
the  impressions,  the  new  molecules  take  ex- 
actly the  places  of  the  old,  and  hence  the 
acquired  disposition  of  the  nerve-elements 
becomes  in  the  end  equivalent  to  an  innate 
disposition.  Further,  the  dynamic  associa- 
tions established  between  these  elements  at- 
tains a  state  of  perfect  fusion,  from  being  re- 
peated innumerable  times.  Hence  it  is  in- 
evitable that  these  first  acquisitions  should 
be  better  retained  and  more  easily  reproduced 
than  any  others,  and  that  they  should  con- 
stitute the  most  enduring  form  of  memory. 


THE   DISEASES   OF    MEMORY. 


31 


So  long  as  the  adult  individual  remains  in 
the  state  of  normal  health,  his  new  impres- 
sions and  new  associations,  though  far  more 
complex  than  those  of  childhood,  are  never- 
theless very  likely  to  be  stable.  The  causes 
we  have  just  enumerated  are  ever  operative, 
though  with  less  force. 

But  if  through  the  effects  of  old  age  or  of 
disease  the  conditions  are  changed;  if  the 
vital  actions,  and  in  particular  nutrition,  are 
weakened;  if  the  loss  exceeds  the  gain;  then 
the  impressions  become  instable  and  the 
associations  are  easily  broken  up.  Take  an 
example.  Suppose  a  man  in  that  stage  of 
progressive  amnesia  in  which  recent  events 
are  very  soon  forgotten.  He  listens  to  a 
narrative,  he  views  a  landscape,  or  sees  a 
show.  The  psychic  fact  is  in  the  last  analy- 
sis reduced  to  a  sum  of  auditive  or  visual 
impressions  forming  highly  complex  groups. 
In  the  new  story  or  the  new  show  there  is 
usually  only  one  thing  that  is  new — the 
grouping,  the  association.  The  sounds, 
forms,  colors  that  make  them  up  have  been 
many  a  time  experienced,  and  many  a  time 
remembered  before.  But  now,  owing  to  the 
morbid  condition  of  the  brain,  this  new  com- 
plex of  impressions  fails  to  fix  itself  in  the 
brain;  the  elements  that  constitute  it  are  part 
of  other  associations  or  groups  of  far  more 
stable  character,  that  were  formed  in  the 
period  of  normal  health  and  that  have  been 
oft  repeated. 

The  strife  is  very  unequal  between  the 
new  complex  that  weakly  tends  to  estab- 
lish itself  in  the  nerve  centers,  and  the  older 
complexes  that  are  firmly  established.  Hence 
all  the  chances  are  that  the  old  combinations 
will  be  called  up  later,  instead  of  the  newer 
one.  These  hints  must  suffice.  For  the  rest, 
this  hypothesis  as  to  the  cause  of  progressive 
amnesia  is  only  of  secondary  importance. 
Accepted  or  rejected,  it  in  no  wise  affects  the 
value  of  our  law. 

IV. 

There  is  but  little  to  be  said  of  congenital 
amnesia.  I  will  refer  to  it,  so  that  nothing 
may  be  omitted.  It  is  seen  in  idiots,  in  im- 
beciles, and  in  a  minor  degree  in  cretins. 
Most  of  the  patients  are  afflicted  with  a  gen- 
eral debility  of  memory.  It  varies  according 
to  individuals,  and  in  some  may  be  such  as 
to  render  impossible  the  acquisition  and  re- 
tention of  the  simple  habits  which  constitute 
the  daily  routine  of  life. 

But  though  a  general  debility  of  memory 
is  the  rule,  frequent  exceptions  occur  in  prac- 
tice. Among  these  classes  of  patients  there 
are  some  individuals  who  possess  a  very  re- 
markable power  of  memory,  within  a  re- 
stricted field. 

It  is  often  observed  in  idiots  and  imbeciles 
that  their  several  senses  are  affected  in  very 
different  degrees.  Thus,  the  hearing  may  be 
extremely  acute  and  discriminating  while  the 
rest  of  the  senses  are  dull.  The  arrest  of 


development  is  not  uniform  at  all  points. 
Hence  it  is  not  surprising  that  debilitation  of 
the  general  memory  should  coincide,  in  the 
same  man,  with  the  evolution  or  even  the 
j  hypertrophy  of  a  special  memory.  Thus 
1  some  idiots,  refractory  to  all  other  impres- 
sions, have  a  strong  liking  for  music,  and 
can  remember  an  air  they  have  heard  only 
once.  Others — and  these  cases  are  more 
rare — have  memory  of  form  and  color,  and 
show  a  certain  skill  in  drawing.  More  fre- 
quently we  find  memory  of  numbers,  dates, 
proper  names,  and  words  in  general.  "An 
imbecile  remembered  the  date  of  every  burial 
that  occurred  in  a  parish  for  thiity-five  years. 
He  could  repeat  with  unfailing  exactitude 
the  names  and  ages  of  the  deceased,  as  also 
of  those  who  had  conducted  the  funerals. 
Beyond  this  mortuary  record  he  had  not  one 
idea;  he  could  not  answer  the  simplest  ques- 
tion, he  was  incapable  even  of  serving  him- 
self with  his  food."  Some  idiots  that  are 
unable  to  make  the  simplest  calculations,  will 
repeat  without  a  slip  the  multiplication  table. 
Others  will  recite  by  heart  whole  pages  that 
they  have  heard  read  from  books,  though 
they  cannot  name  a  single  letter  of  the  alpha- 
bet. Drobisch  relates  the  following  fact  of 
which  he  was  himself  a  witness:  a  boy  of 
fourteen  years,  nearly  idiotic,  had  great  diffi- 
culty in  learning  to  read;  yet  he  remembered 
with  wonderful  facility  the  order  in  which 
the  words  and  letters  succeeded  one  another. 
Give  him  two  or  three  minutes  to  go  over  a 
pflgc  printed  in  a  language  unknown  to  him, 
or  treating  of  subjects  of  which  he  knew 
nothing,  and  he  could  from  memory  spell  all 
the  words  there  found,  precisely  as  though 
the  book  lay  open  before  him.*  The  exist- 
ence of  these  partial  memories  is  so  common 
a  fact  that  it  has  been  turned  to  account  in 
educating  idiots  and  imbeciles,  f 

It  is  further  to  be  remarked  that  some  idiots 
subject  to  mania  or  other  acute  disorders  re- 
gain a  temporary  memory.  Thus,  "an  idiot, 
become  a  maniac,  narrated  a  rather  complex 
occurrence  of  which  he  had  many  years  be- 
fore been  a  witness,  and  which  had  seemed 
to  make  no  impression  upon  him."J 

In  congenital  amnesia  it  is  the  exceptions 
that  are  instructive.  Our  law  simply  confirms 
the  commonplace  truth  that  the  memory  de- 
pends on  the  constitution  of  the  brain,  and  in 
idiots  and  imbeciles  the  brain  is*  abnormal. 
But  the  formation  of  these  limited,  partial 
memories  helps  us  to  understand  certain  dis- 


*  Drobisch,  "  Empirische  Psychologic,"  p.  561. 
Dr.  Herzen  writes  to  me  about  a  Russian,  from  Arch- 
angel, now  twenty-seven  years  of  age,  who  was 
stncken  with  imbecility  at  the  close  of  a  debauch. 
Of  the  brilliant  faculties  of  his  adolescence  all  that 
he  retained  was  an  extraordinary  memory,  so  that 
he  could  instantaneously  perform  the  most  difficult 
operations  in  arithmetic  or  algebra,  and  repeat  word 
for  word  long  pieces  of  po«try  after  hearing  them 
read  only  once. 

t  See  Ireland's  work  "  On  Idiocy  and  Imbecility,"' 
Lor  don,  1877. 

t  Griesinger,  op.  cit.,  p.  431. 


THE   DISEASES  OF   MEMORY. 


orders  of  which  we  have  not  yet  treated.  I 
am  inclined  to  believe  that  the  methodical 
study  of  what  occurs  in  idiots  would  enable 
us  to  determine  the  anatomical  and  physio- 
logical conditions  of  memory.  We  will  re- 
turn to  this  point  in  the  next  chapter. 


CHAPTER  III. 


PARTIAL   AMNESIA. 

Reduction  of  memory  10  memories — Anatomi- 
cal and  physiological  reasons  for  partial 
memories — Amnesia  of  numbers,  names, 
figures,  forms,  etc. — Amnesia  of  signs — 
Its  nature;  a  loss  of  motor-memory — Ex- 
amination of  this  point — Progressive  am- 
nesia of  signs  verifies  completely  the  law  of 
regression — Order  of  dissolution  :  proper 
names  ;  common  nouns  ;  verbs  and  adjec- 
tives;  interjections  and  language  of  the 
emotions;  gestures — Relation  bet-ween  this 
dissolution  and  the  evolution  of  the  Indo- 
European  languages — Counter-proof:  re- 
turn of  signs  in  inverse  order 

I. 

Before  we  proceed  to  the  consideration  of 
partial  amnesia  we  must  first  remark  upon 
the  varieties  of  memory.  Without  such  pre- 
liminary remarks  the  facts  we  are  about  to 
state  would  appear  inexplicable.  That  a  man 
should  lose  only  his  memory  of  words,  or 
should  forget  one  language,  retaining  others, 
or  that  a  language  long  forgotten  should 
come  back  to  him  suddenly,  or  that  he  should 
be  bereft  of  his  musical  memory  and  of  that 
alone — these  things  are  so  odd  and  strange 
on  first  view  that  were  it  not  that  they  are 
vouched  for  by  the  most  scrupulous  ob- 
servers, they  might  well  be  relegated  among 
fables.  But  if,  on  the  other  hand,  we  have  a 
clear  idea  of  what  is  meant  by  the  word  mem- 
ory, the  marvelous  disappears,  and  these  facts, 
so  far  from  surprising  us,  appear  as  the  nat- 
ural, logical  consequence  of  a  morbid  influ- 
ence. 

The  employment  of  the  word  memory  as  a 
general  term  is  perfectly  correct.  It  desig- 
nates a  property  common  to  all  sentient  and 
thinking  cr.eatures — the  possibility  of  retain- 
ing impressions  and  of  reproducing  them. 
But  the  history  of  psychology  shows  that  there 
is  a  tendency  to  forget  that  this  term,  like  all 
other  terms,  has  a  real  signification  only  in 
particular  cases:  that  memory  resolves  itself 
into  memories,  just  as  the  life  of  an  organ- 
ism resolves  itself  into  the  life  of  the  or- 
gans, tissues,  anatomical  elements  that  com- 
pose it.  "The  ancient  and  still  unexplod- 
ed  error,"  says  Lewes,  "which  treats  mem- 
ory as  an  independent  function,  a  faculty, 
for  which  a  separate  organ,  or  seat,  is 
sought,  arises  from  the  tendency  continu- 
ally to  be  noticed,  of  personifying  an  abstrac- 


tion. Instead  of  recognizing  it  as  the  short 
hand  expression  for  what  is  common  to  all 
concrete  facts  of  remembrance,  or  for  the 
sum  of  such  facts,  many  writers  suppose  it 
to  have  an  existence  apart."* 

Though  everyday  experience  has  long 
noted  the  natural  inequality  of  the  different 
forms  of  memory  in  one  and  the  same  per- 
son, psychologists  either  have  not  interested 
themselves  in  that  fact,  or  have  denied  it  o* 
principle.  Dugald  Stewart  seriously  main- 
tains that  "original  disparities  among  me| 
in  this  respect  are  by  no  means  so  immensf 
as  they  seem  to  be  at  first  view,  and  tha( 
much  is  to  be  ascribed  to  different  habits  of 
attention,  and  to  a  difference  of  selection 
among  the  various  objects  and  events  pre< 
sented  to  their  curiosity."!  Gall,  who  wa| 
the  first  to  make  a  stand  against  this  tend- 
ency, ascribed  to  each  faculty  a  memory  of 
its  own,  and  denied  the  existence  of  memory 
as  an  independent  faculty. 

Contemporary  psychology,  more  careful 
than  the  old-school  psychology  to  omit  noth- 
ing, and  more  concerned  about  exceptions 
that  afford  instruction,  has  brought  to  light 
a  considerable  number  of  facts  which  remove 
all  doubt  as  to  the  natural  inequality  of  the 
several  memories  in  the  same  individual. 
Taine  gives  many  excellent  examples  of  this. 
We  may  cite  in  illustration  Horace  Vernet 
and  Gustave  Dor6,  painters,  who  can  paint  a 
portrait  from  memory;  chessplayers  who  caf 
carry  on  one  or  more  games  in  mind;  littj 
calculating  prodigies  like  Zerah  Colburn  whfc 
"  see  their  sums  before  their  eyes";  \  the  man 
mentioned  by  Lewes  who,  after  walking  half 
a  mile  down  a  street,  could  name  all  the  shops 
in  their  respective  positions;  Mozart  writing 
the  notes  of  the  Sistine  chapel  Miserere  after 
hearing  it  twice.  For  details  I  refer  the 
reader  to  special  treatises,!  as  I  have  no 
occasion  to  discuss  the  question  here.  It  is 
enough  that  the  reader  hold  these  inequalities 
of  the  memory  for  well  established.  Let  us 
now  see  how  they  are  explained  ;  we  shall 
then  see  what  they  themselves  explain. 

What  is  implied  by  these  partial  memories? 
Special  development  of  a  special  sense  with 
the  anatomical  structures  dependent  on  it. 

To  make  this  clearer,  take  a  particular  case 
— for  instance  a  good  visual  memory.  This 
has  for  its  condition  a  good  structure  of  the 
eye,  of  the  optic  nerve,  and  of  the  portions 
of  the  brain  which  concur  in  the  act  of  vision 
— that  is  to  say  (according  to  the  received  no- 
tions of  anatomists)  certain  portions  of  the 
pons,  the  crura,  the  optic  tract,  and  the 


*  Op.  cit,,  Vol.  Ill,  p.  119. 

t  "  Philosophy  of  the  Human  Mind." 

(  I  have  had  occasion  to  note  that  many  calculator* 
do  not  see  their  figures  nor  their  sums,  but  that  they 
"hear"  them.  So  far  as  our  theory  is  concerned  it 
matters  little  whether  the  images  are  visual  or 
auditive. 

ij  Taine,  "Intelligence,"  vol.  i,  part  i,  Book  II. 
ch.  i,  §  i;   Luys, ''The  Brain  and  its  Functions; 
ewes,  loc.  cit. 


THE     DISEASES  OF   MEMORY. 


hemispheres.  These  structures,  higher  by 
hypothesis  than  jthe  average,  are  perfectly 
adapted  to  receive  and  to  transmit  impres- 
sions. Conseqnently  the  modifications  which 
the  nerve-elements  undergo,  as  also  the  dy- 
namic associations  formed  between  them — 
and  these,  as  we  havi  often  said,  are  the 
bases  of  memory — ought  to  be  more  stable, 
more  definite,  more  easily  revived,  than  in 
an  ordinary  brain.  In  short,  to  say  that  a 
visual  organ  has  a  good  anatomical  and  phys- 
ical constitution,  is  to  say  that  it  presents  the 
conditions  of  a  good  visual  memory. 

We  may  go  further,  and  say  that  the  term 
"a  good  visual  memory  "  is  too  broad.  Daily 
experience  shows  us  that  one  person  recol- 
lects forms  best,  another  person  colors. 

It  is  probable  that  the  former's  memory  de- 
pends mainly  on  the  muscular  sensibility 
of  the  eye,  that  of  the  latter  on  the  reti- 
na and  the  nervous  apparatus  connected 
with  it. 

These  remarks  apply  to  hearing,  smell, 
taste,  and  those  diverse  forms  of  sensibility 
comprised  under  the  general  name  of  touch — 
in  short,  all  sense  perceptions. 

If  we  reflect  upon  the  close  relations  sub- 
sisting between  the  feelings,  the  emotions, 
the  general  sensibility,  and  the  physical  con- 
stitution of  each  individual,  and  if  we  con- 
sider how  dependent  these  physical  states  are 
upon  the  organs  of  animal  life,  we  shall  un- 
derstand that  these  organs  bear  the  same  re- 
lation to  the  feelings  that  the  organs  of  sense 
do  to  sense  perceptions.  Through  differ- 
ences of  constitution,  the  impression  trans- 
mitted may  be  faint  or  strong,  stable  or  trans- 
ient :  here  are  so  many  conditions  to  modify 
the  memory  of  feelings  and  sentiments.  The 
preponderance  of  any  system  of  organs — 
those  of  generation  for  example — gives  the 
superiority  to  one  group  of  recollections. 

There  remain  the  higher  psychic  states — 
abstract  ideas  and  complex  sentiments. 
These  cannot  be  referred  directly  to  any  or- 
gan :  the  seat  of  their  production  and  repro- 
duction has  never  been  localized  with  pre- 
cision. But  as  they  no  doubt  result  from  an 
association  or  a  dissociation  of  primary  states, 
there  is  no  ground  for  supposing  that  they  are 
exceptional. 

The  foregoing  remarks  may  be  summed  up 
thus.  In  the  same  individual  an  unequal  de- 
velopment of  the  several  senses  and  of  the 
several  organs  produces  unequal  modifications 
in  the  corresponding  parts  of  the  nervous 
system,  and  consequently  varieties  of  mem- 
ory. It  is  probable  even  that  inequality  of 
memories  in  the  same  person  is  the  rule,  not 
the  exception.  As  we  have  no  exact  pro- 
cesses for  weighing  and  measuring  them 
separately,  and  comparing  them  with  one 
another,  we  offer  the  foregoing  only  as  a  con- 
jecture. An  indirect  proof  might  be  drawn 
from  the  antagonism  between  the  different 
forms  of  memory  :  this  is  a  point  that  might 
give  occasion  for  much  curious  research,  but 


it  is  beside  our  subject.  *  Finally,  no  objection 
can  be  brought  from  the  influence  of  edu- 
cation. Of  course  education  counts  for  much, 
but  it  hardly  does  anything  more  than  to  fos- 
ter what  nature  has  already  singled  out  ;  and 
in  certain  cases  it  has  been  unable  to  act  any 
part. 

In  psychology,  as  in  an  sciences  based  on 
facts,  experience  decides  in  the  last  resort. 
We  would  remark  however  that  the  relative 
independence  of  the  different  forms  of 
memory  might  have  been  demonstrative  by 
reasoning  alone.  In  fact  it  is  a  corollary  of 
the  two  propositions  following,  viz.:  i,  Every 
recollection  has  its  seat  in  certain  determinate 
parts  of  the  brain;  2,  The  brain  and  the 
cerebral  hemispheres  themselves  "  consist  of 
a  number  of  organs  totally  differentiated, 
each  one  of  which  possesses  a  function  of  its 
own,  though  it  remains  most  closely  con- 
nected with  the  others."  This  latter  pro- 
position is  now  accepted  by  most  authors 
who  study  the  nervous  system. 

In  physiology  indeed  the  distinction  of 
partial  memories  is  now  currently  received, +• 
but  in  psychology  the  method  of  "  faculties' 
has  succeeded  so  well  in  having  the 
memory  regarded  as  a  unit  that  the 
existence  of  partial  memories  has  been 
completely  forgotten  or  has  been  taken  for 
an  anomaly.  It  was  needful  that  I  should 
bring  the  reader  back  to  the  reality  and 
remind  him  that  in  the  last  analysis  there 
exist  only  special>  or  as  sotne  authors  say,  local 
memories.  We  willingly  accept  this  latter 
term  provided  it  be  borne  in  mind  that  we 
have  to  do  here  with  a  distributed  localiz- 
ation, according  to  the  hypothesis  of  dynamic 
associations  already  set  forth.  The  memory 
has  often  been  compared  to  a  store-house 
where  all  our  items  of  knowledge  are  kept  in 
separate  shelves.  If  this  simile  is  to  be 
retained  it  must  be  presented  in  a  more  active 
form — each  particular  memory  would  be 
compared  to  a  squad  of  employees  charged 
with  a  special  and  exclusive  branch  of 
business.  One  of  these  squads  may  be 
dropped  Without  throwing  all  the  rest  into 
confusion.  This  is  what  occurs  in  partial 
disorders  of  memory. 

After  these  preliminary  observations,  we 
proceed  to  study  the  pathology  of  memory. 
If  in  the  normal  state  the  different  form} 
of  memory  are  relatively  independent,  it  is 
perfectly  natural  that  in  the  morbid  state  one 
form  should  disappear,  leaving  the  rest 
intact.  This  fact  must  appear  to  us  now  as 
simple,  and  needing  no  explanation,  resulting 
as  it  does  from  the  very  nature  of  memory. 


*  On  the  antagonism  of  memories,  see  Herbert 
Spencer,  "  Principles  of  Psychology,"  vol.  i. 

t  See  in  particular  Ferrier, "  Functions  of  the  Brain." 
Even  Gratiolet  "Anatomic  Comparee,"  Vol.  II, 
p.  460,  remarked  that  "  to  each  sense  corresponds  a 
memory  that  is  correlative  to  it,  and  that  the  mind 
like  the  body  has  its  temperaments  which  result 
from  the  predominance  of  a  given  order  of  sensation 
in  the  natural  habits  of  the  mind." 


34 


THE    DISEASES   OF    MEMORY. 


True,  many  partial  disorders  are  not  restrict- 
ed to  only  one  group  of  recollections.  This 
will  not  excite  surprise  if  we  reflect  on  the 
close  solidarity  of  all  the  parts  of  the  brain, 
their  functions  and  the  psychic  states  there- 
with connected.  Still  we  shall  find  a  certain 
number  of  cases  in  which  the  amnesia  is 
limited. 

A  complete  study  of  partial  amnesia  would 
involve  the  examination,  one  after  another, 
of  the  different  manifestations  of  psychic 
activity,  and  proving  from  examples  that 
each  group  of  recollections  may  disap- 
pear, whether  for  a  time  or  forever.  We 
can  by  no  means  carry  out  that  plan.  We 
are  unable  even  to  say  whether  certain  forms 
are  never  partially  affected,  and  never  dis- 
appear, save  when  there  is  total  dissolution 
of  the  memory.  We  must  look  to  the  future 
for  fuller  or  more  conclusive  pathological 
proofs. 

Properly  speaking  there  is  only  one  form 
of  partial  amnesia  that  may  be  studied 
thoroughly — the  amnesia  of  signs  (whether 
spoken  or  written  signs,  interjections, 
gestures.)  It  is  rich  in  all  sorts  of  facts 
explicable  by  the  law  formulated  in  the 
preceding  chapter.  Leaving  that  for  separate 
study,  we  will  state  what  is  known  with 
regard  to  other  forms  of  partial  amnesia. 

"Some  persons,"  writes  Calmeil,  *  "have 
lost  the  power  of  reproducing  certain  sounds, 
or  certain  colors,  and  have  had  to  abandon 
music  or  painting  "  others  lose  only  the  mem- 
ory of  numbers,  figures,  a  foreign  language, 
proper  names,  or  the  existence  of  their  near- 
est relatives.  We  offer  a  few  examples. 

The  case  of  Sir  Henry  Holland,  narrated 
by  himself  in  his  "Mental  Pathology"  (p.  i6o\ 
has  often  been  quoted  :  "  I  descended  on  the 
same  day  two  very  deep  mines  in  the  Harz 
Mountains,  remaining  some  hours  under- 
ground in  each.  While  in  the  second  mine, 
and  exhausted  both  by  fatigue  and  inanition,  I 
felt  the  utter  impossibility  of  talking  longer 
with  the  German  inspector  who  accompanied 
me.  Every  German  word  and  phrase  deserted 
my  recollection  :  and  it  was  not  until  I  had 
taken  food  and  wine,  and  been  some  time  at 
rest  that  I  regained  them  again." 

This  case,  though  the  one  best  known  is 
far  from  being  unique.  Dr.  Beattie  tells  of  a 
friend  of  his,  who  having  received  a  blow  on 
the  head,  lost  all  he  ever  knew  of  Greek,  his 
memory  in  other  respects  appearing  to  be  in- 
tact. This  loss  of  languages  that  have  been 
acquired  by  study,  has  often  been  noted  as  a 
result  of  sundry  fevers. 

"  So  as  regards  music.  A  child  having  re- 
ceived a  severe  blow  on  the  head,  was  uncon- 
scious for  three  days.  On  coming  to  himself 
he  had  forgotten  all  the  music  he  had  learned; 
nothing  else  was  lost."  f  Other  cases  are 
more  complex.  A  patient  who  had  forgotten 


'  "  Dictionnaire  en  trente  volumes."  art.  Amnesie. 
•*•  Carpenter,  "  Mental  Physiology,    p.  44$, 


the  values  of  the  musical  notes,  was  ante  to 
play  a  tune  after  hearing  it.  Another  could 
write  musical  notes,  even  compose  music  and 
recognize  a  melody  he  heard  executed  ;  but 
he  was  unable  to  play  with  the  notes  before 
him.*  These  facts  showing  as  they  do  the 
complexity  of  our  mental  operations,  even  of 
those  which  seem  most  simple,  will  be  con- 
sidered later. 

In  some  cases  the  best  organized  recol- 
lections, the  most  stable,  disappear  mome- 
ntarily, while  others  presenting  the  same 
character  remain  intact.  Thus  Abercrombie 
tells  of  a  surgeon  who  having  been  thrown 
from  his  horse  and  suffered  an  injury  in  the 
head,  gave  the  minutest  directions  upon 
coming  to  himself  as  to  his  treatment.  But 
he  no  longer  remembered  that  he  had  a  wife 
and  children,  and  this  forgetfulness  lasted  for 
three  days.f  Is  this  fact  to  be  explained  on 
the  theory  of  mental  automatism  ?  This  sur- 
geon, though  half  insensible,  remembers  his 
professional  knowledge. 

Some  patients  lose  entirely  the  memory  of 
proper  names,  even  their  own.  W«  shall  see 
later,  when  we  come  to  study  the  amnesia  of 
signs,  in  its  perfect  evolution — as  it  is  seen 
in  the  aged — that  these  proper  names  are  al- 
ways soonest  forgotten.  In  the  cases  that 
follow,  this  forgetfulness  was  the  symptom  of 
softening  of  the  brain. 

A  certain  man,  unable  to  recall  the  name 
of  a  friend,  had  to  take  his  interlocutor  to 
the  door  on  which  was  a  plate  bearing  the 
name.  Another  person,  after  an  attack  of 
apoplexy,  was  unable  to  recall  the  names  of 
any  of  his  friends,  though  he  designated 
them  correctly  by  their  ages.  Mr.  von  B., 
formerly  Envoy  to  Madrid,  and  afterward 
to  St.  Petersburg,  was  about  to  make  *  visit, 
but  could  not  tell  the  servants  his  name. 
"  Turning  round  immediately  to  a  gentleman 
who  accompanied  him,  he  said  with  much 
earnestness,  '  For  God's  sake,  tell  me  who  I 
am  !'  The  question  exci'.ed  laughter,  but  as 
Mr.  von  B.  insisted  on  being  answered,  add- 
ing that  he  had  entirely  forgotten  his  own 
name,  he  was  told  it,  whereupon  he  finished 
his  visit."  J 

In  other  instances  an  apoplectic  attack  is 
followed  only  by  amnesia  of  numberr.  A 
traveler  after  long  exposure  to  cold  expe- 
rienced a  great  weakening  of  the  memory. 
He  could  not  himself  make  any  calculation, 
nor  retain  for  a  moment  any  operation  in 
numbers. 

Forgetfulness  of  faces  is  frequent,  nor 
need  this  excite  surprise,  for  in  the  normal 
state  many  persons  have  this  kind  of  mem- 
ory very  ill  developed  and  very  instable;  be- 
sides, the  memory  of  faces  must  be  the  result 
of  a  pretty  complex  mental  synthesis.  Lou- 
yer  Viflermay  gives  an  amusing  example : 


*  Kussmaul,  "  Die  Stowngen  der  Sprache,"  p. 
Proust,  "  Archives  generates  de  medecine."  1871. 
t  Abercrombi-,  "  Intellectual  Powers." 
$  Forbes  Winslow,  of.  cit. 


THE    DISEASES   OF    MEMORY. 


"  An  old  man  being  in  the  company  of  his 
wife  imagined  her  to  be  a  lady  whom  he  had 
in  the  past  been  wont  to  visit  every  evening, 
and  he  would  repeat  again  and  again,  '  Mad- 
am I  cannot  remain  longer;  I  must  return  to 
my  wife  and  children.'  " 

Carpenter  tells  us  of  a  distinguished 
scientist  whom  he  had  known  from  child- 
hood, that  though  turned  seventy  years  of 
age  he  was  still  full  of  vigor,  but  that  his 
memory  was  failing.  In  particular,  he  forgot 
recent  occurrences  and  words  in  most  fre- 
quent use.  "Though  continually  at  the 
British  Museum,  the  Royal  Society,  and  the 
Geological  Society,  he  would  be  unable  to 
refer  to  either  by  name,  but  would  speak  of 
'  that  public  place.'  He  still  continued  his 
visits  to  his  friends,  and  recognized  them  in 
their  own  homes,  or  in  other  places  (as  the 
Scientific  Societies)  where  he  had  been  ac- 
customed to  meet  them;  but  the  writer,  on 
meeting  him  at  the  house  of  one  of  the  oldest 
friends  of  both,  usually  residing  in  London, 
but  then  staying  at  Brighton,  found  that  he 
•was  not  recognized;  and  the  same  want  of 
recognition  shewed  itself  when  the  meeting 
took  place  out  of  doors.  The  want  of  mem- 
ory of  words  then  showed  itself  more  con- 
spicuously, one  word  being  substituted  for 
another,  sometimes  in  a  manner  that  showed 
the  chain  of  association  to  be  (as  it  were) 
bent  or  distorted.  Thus,  he  told  a  friend 
that  'he  had  had  his  umbrella  washed,' the 
meaning  of  which  was  gradually  discovered 
to  be  that  he  had  had  his  hair  cut.  His 
memory  steadily  declined,  and  he  died  of 
apoplexy."* 

In  this  instance  there  is  seen  simulta- 
neously existing  amnesia  of  proper  names,  and 
names  of  things,  and  amnesia  of  faces  ;  but 
what  is  most  curious  is  the  part  played  by  the 
law  of  contiguity.  Recognition  of  persons 
is  not  spontaneous,  suggested  simply  by  their 
presence.  To  have  recognition,  it  must  be 
suggested  or  rather  aided  by  the  actual  im- 
pression of  the  places  where  they  habitually 
are.  The  recollection  of  these  places,  fixed 
by  the  experience  of  a  life-time,  and  become 
almost  organic,  remains  stable  :  it  serves  as  a 
fixed  point  to  call  out  other  recollections. 

The  names  of  these  "  public  places  "  is  not 
revived  :  the  association  between  the  object 
and  the  sign  is  too  faint.  But  the  recollec- 
tion of  faces  is  in  operation,  being  dependent 
on  a  stable  sort  of  association,  namely  conti- 
guity in  place.  The  one  category  of  associa- 
tion that  has  survived  assists'in  reviving  an- 
other category,  which,  left  to  its  own  re- 
sources, would  not  have  been  called  up. 

It  were  an  easy  thing,  but  profitless  to  the 
reader,  to  enumerate  cases  of  partial  amnesia. 
It  is  enough  to  have  shown  by  a  few  exam- 
ples wherein  partial  amnesia  consists. 

The  question  naturally  arises  whether  the 
forms  of  memory  which  disease  either  dis- 


*  Op.  eft.,  p.  545. 


organizes  for  good  or  only  temporarily  sus- 
pends, are  the  ones  that  are  best  established, 
or  only  the  weakest.  We  cannot  answer  posi- 
tively. Logically,  it  would  seem  that  the 
morbid  influences  must  follow  the  line  of 
least  resistance :  and  the  facts  appear  to  con- 
firm this  hypothesis.  In  most  cases  of  partial 
amnesia  it  is  the  least  stable  forms  of  memory 
that  are  attacked.  At  least  I  do  not  know  of  a 
single  case  in  which,  any  organic  form  being 
suspended  or  abolished,  the  higher  forms  have 
remained  intact.  Yet  it  were  rash  to  assert 
that  this  has  never  occurred. 

We  may  therefore  only  reply  to  the  ques- 
tion with  an  hypothesis  till  we  shall  be  in  pos- 
session of  fuller  information.  For  the  rest  it 
would  be  contrary  to  scientific  method  to 
refer  to  one  law  all  sorts  of  cases  depending 
on  special  conditions.  A  thorough  study  of 
each  case  and  its  causes  is  necessary  before  we 
can  declare  them  all  to  be  reducible  to  one 
formula.  Just  now  the  problem  is  too  obscure 
to  permit  of  this  being  done. 

The  same  remarks  apply  to  the  process  by 
which  these  forms  of  amnesia  are  produced. 
In  the  first  place  we  know  nothing  about  the 
physiological  mechanism  special  to  each  form. 
Here  all  means  of  explanation  fail  us.  At 
regards  the  psychological  mechanism  we  may 
venture  an  hypothesis.  In  the  cases  of  par- 
tial amnesia  we  have  been  considering  there 
are  two  things  in  particular  worthy  of  not*, 
viz.,  destruction  and  suspension.  Destruction 
is  the  direct  result  of  the  disorganization  of  the 
nerve-elements.  la  the  case  of  suspension  * 
certain  group  of  elements  remains  temporarily 
isolated  and  powerless,  or,  in  psychological 
language,  it  stands  outside  of  the  mechanism  of 
association.  This  explanation  is  suggested  by 
the  case  cited  by  Carpenter.  The  solidarity  ex- 
isting between  the  different  parts  of  the  brain, 
and  consequently  between  the  different  psy- 
chic states  persists,  as  a  rule.  These  group* 
alone,  with  the  sum  of  recollections  that  they 
represent,  are  in  a  manner  made  immobile, 
inaccessible  to  the  other  groups,  incapable  for 
a  time  of  entering  into  the  consciousness. 
This  state  must  be  the  result  of  physiological 
conditions  which  escape  our  notice. 
H. 

We  have  reserved  for  special  study  one 
form  of  partial  amnesia — that  of  signs. 
Here  we  use  the  term  signs  in  its  broadest 
sense,  comprising  all  the  means  man  em- 
ploys for  expressing  his  feelings  and  thoughts. 
The  subject  is  one  that  is  clearly  defined  and 
rich  in  facts  at  once  like  and  unlike,  inas- 
much as  they  possess  a  common  psycholog- 
ical character  in  that  they  are  signs,  while 
they  differ  as  to  the  nature  of  the  signs, 
which  are  either  vocal  or  written  signs,  ges- 
tures, drawings,  or  music.  They  are  easily 
observed  and  of  every-day  occurrence,  and 
well  localized ;  and  owing  to  their  variety  they 
are  well  suited  for  comparison  and  analysis. 
Besides,  as  we  shall  see,  this  species  of  par- 


THE   DISEASES   OF   MEMORY 


tial  amnesia  very  strikingly  confirms  the  law 
of  the  destruction  of  memory  laid  down  in 
the  preceding  chapter  in  its  most  general 
form. 

But  first  we  must  guard  against  a  misun- 
derstanding. The  reader  may  suppose  that 
we  are  about  to  study  aphasia:  but  not  so. 
In  most  cases,  aphasia,  it  is  true,  implies  a 
disorder  of  the  memory,  but  it  implies  some- 
thing more;  and  it  is  only  with  disorders  of 
memory  that  we  are  concerned.  The  re- 
searches made  during  the  last  forty  years 
upon  the  diseases  of  the  faculty  of  language, 
have  shown  that  under  this  one  term, 
aphasia,  are  included  cases  tha't  differ  very 
widely  from  one  another.  The  reason  is  that 
aphasia  being,  not  a  disease,  but  a  symptom, 
yaries  according  to  the  morbid  conditions 
that  produce  it.  Thus,  some  aphasic  sub- 
jects are  deprived  of  every  mode  of  expres- 
iion;  others  are  able  to  speak  but  not  to 
write,  or  vice  versa;  the  loss  of  gesture  is 
much  less  frequent.  Sometimes  the  patient 
retains  a  pretty  considerable  vocabulary  of 
vocal  and  graphic  signs,  but  sp«aks  and 
writes  in  counter-sense  (paraphasia,  par- 
agraphia).  Or  he  does  not  understand 
the  signification  of  words  whether  written  or 
spoken,  though  hearing  and  sight  be  intact, 
(word-deafness,  word-blindness).  Aphasia  is 
either  permanent  or  transitory:  oftentimes, 
it  is  accompanied  by  hemiplegia.  This  hem- 
iplegia — which  nearly  always  attacks  the 
right  side — is  in  itself,  quite  apart  from  am- 
nesia, an  obstacle  to  writing.  *  These 
principal  forms  present  varieties  accord- 
ing to  the  individuals  affected.  From  this, 
the  reader  may  have  some  idea  of  the 
complexity  of  the  question.  Fortunately,  we 
have  not  to  discuss  it  here.  Our  task — and 
it  is  one  of  no  little  difficulty — consists  in  de- 
termining among  these  disorders  of  speech 
and  of  the  expressive  faculty  in  general, 
that  which  seems  to  belong  to  memory 
alone. 

Plainly,  we  have  nothing  to  do  with  cases 
where  aphasia  results  from  idiocy,  dementia, 
or  loss  of  memory  in  general;  neither  with 
cases  where  the  power  of  transmission  alone 
is  impaired:  thus  a  lesion  of  the  white  master 
of  the  brain,  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  third 
left  frontal  convolution  may  impair  the  ex- 
pressive faculty,  the  gray  matter  being  intact,  f 
But  after  these  two  causes  are  eliminated, 
the  difficulty  is  hardly  lessened,  for  aphasia 
usually  occurs  under  quite  other  conditions. 
We  will  examine  it  under  its  most  ordinary 
form. 

There  is  no  need  to  cite  instances,  which 
the  reader  may  find  everywhere.  \  Usually, 


*  In  left-handed  subjects  of  aphasia  the  hem- 
iplegia is  always  on  the  left  side. 

+  For  cases  of  this  kind,  see  Kussmaul,  "  Die 
Storungen  d-r  Sprache,"  p.  op. 

f  The  literature  of  aphasia  is  so  plentiful  that  a  sim- 
ple enumeration  of  works  or  memoirs  would  occupy 
several  pages.  For  the  psychological  aspects,  the 
reader  may  consult  Trousseau,  "  Clinique  Medi- 


aphasia  appears  suddenly.  The  patient  if 
unable  to  speak;  if  he  tries  to  write,  there  i» 
a  like  inability;  at  best  he  is  able,  with  great 
difficulty,  to  trace  a  few  unintelligible  words. 
His  physiognomy  retains  the  look  of  intel- 
ligence. He  strives  to  convey  his  meaning 
by  gestures.  For  the  rest,  there  is  no  paral- 
ysis of  the  muscles  that  serve  to  articulate 
words;  the  tongue  moves  freely.  Such  are 
the  general  traits,  at  least  the  ones  which 
most  interest  us  just  now. 

What  has  occurred  in  the  psychic  state  of 
the  patient,  and,  as  regards  the  memory, 
what  is  it  that  he  has  lost  ?  A  little  reflec- 
tion suffices  to  show  that  amnesia  of  signs  is 
a  phenomenon  of  quite  a  special  character. 
It  is  not  to  be  compared  to  the  forgetfulness- 
of  colors,  sounds,  a  foreign  language,  or  a 
period  of  life.  It  extends  to  all  the  activ- 
ities of  the  mind,  and  so  far  forth  it  is  gen- 
eral; and  yet  it  is  partial  only,  for  the  patient 
retains  his  ideas  and  his  recollections,  and  is 
conscious  of  his  own  situation. 

In  our  opinion,  the  amnesia  of  signs  is 
above  all  a  disease  of  the  motor  memory:  that 
it  is  which  gives  it  its  special  character  and 
makes  it  assume  for  us  a  new  aspect.  But 
what  is  meant  by  "  motor  memory, "  an  ex- 
pression which  may  at  first  cause  surprise  ? 
The  matter  has  been  so  little  studied  by  psy- 
chologists, that  it  is  difficult  to  discourse  of  it 
clearly  in  a  summary  way,  and  it  cannot  be 
treated  here  at  any  length. 

I  have  endeavored  in  another  place,*  though 
not  with  sufficient  fullness,  to  show  the  psy- 
chological importance  of  movements,  and  to- 
prove  that  every  state  of  consciousness  im- 
plies in  some  degree  motor  elements.  But 
to  confine  ourselves  to  the  matter  in  hand,  I 
would  remark  that  no  one  finds  difficulty  in 
admitting  that  our  perceptions,  our  ideas, 
our  intellectual  acts  in  general  are  not  fixed 
in  us,  and  have  no  part  in  memory  except 
there  exist  in  the  brain  certain  residua — modi- 
fications of  nerve-elements  and  of  the  dynamic 
associations  of  those  elements.  On  this  condii- 
tion  alone  are  they  retained  and  recalled.  But 
the  same  must  of  necessity  hold  good  for 
movements.  The  movements  under  consid- 
eration, those  which  take  place  in  articulate 
speech,  writing,  drawing,  music,  gestures, 
can  be  retained  and  reproduced  only  on  con- 
dition that  there  are  motor  residua,  i.  e  ,  ac- 
cording to  the  hypothesis  so  often  set  forth, 
modifications  in  the  nerve-elements  and  dy- 
namic associations  between  those  elements. 
But  whatever  opinion  one  may  adopt,  if 
nought  remained  of  a  word  spoken  or  written 
for  the  first  time,  it  were  impossible  either  to- 
read  or  to  write. 


cale,"  vol.  II;  Fabret,  art.  "Aphasia"  in  "  Diet, 
encycl.  des  sciences  medic;"  Proust,  "Archives 
gen.  de  med,"  1872;  Kussmaul,  ubi  supra:  H. 
Jackson,  "  On  the  Affections  of  Speech,1'  in  Brain* 
1878,  1879  1880,  etc. 

*  "  Revue  Philosophique,"  Oct.,  1879  ;  see  also  an 
excellent  chapter  of  Maudsley's  work,  "  Physiology 
of  Mind." 


THE   DISEASES   OF   MEMORY. 


37 


The  existence  of  motor  residua  admitted, 
we  may  understand  the  nature  of  sign-am- 
nesia. 

Our  intellectual  activity  consists,  as  we 
know,  in  a  series  of  states  of  consciousness 
Associated  according  to  certain  relations. 
Each  term  of  a  series  seems  to  the  conscious- 
ness simple,  but  it  is  not  so  in  reality.  When 
we  speak  or  think  with  anything  like  precision, 
all  the  terms  of  a  series  form  couples,  made 
up  of  the  thought  and  its  expression.  In  the 
normal  state  the  fusion  of  these  two  elements 
is  so  complete  that  they  form  one,  but  disease 
shows  that  they  can  be  dissociated.  Further, 
the  expression  ' '  couple  "  does  not  suffice. 
It  is  exact  only  for  that  portion  of  the  human 
race  that  cannot  write.  When  I  think  of  a 
house,  over  and  above  the  mental  representa- 
tion which  is  the  state  of  consciousness 
proper,  over  and  above  the  vocal  sign  which 
translates  that  thought  and  which  seems  to 
form  one  thing  with  it,  there  exists  a  graphic 
clement  that  is  almost  as  intimately  blended 
with  the  thought,  and  which,  when  I  write, 
becomes  even  predominant.  Nor  is  that  all: 
around  the  vocal  sign,  "  house,"  are  grouped, 
by  a  less  intimate  association,  the  vocal 
signs  used  in  other  languages  with  which  I 
am  acquainted — maison,  domus,  Jfaus,  casa, 
etc.  Around  the  graphic  sign,  "house,"  are 
grouped  the  graphic  signs  of  those  same 
languages.  Thus  we  see  that  in  an  adult 
mind,  each  clear  state  of  consciousness  is  not 
a  simple  unit,  but  a  complex  unit,  a  group. 
The  mental  representation,  the  thought,  is, 
properly  speaking,  only  the  nucleus,  around 
which  are  grouped  signs  more  or  less  numer- 
ous which  determine  it. 

This  understood,  the  mechanism  of  sign- 
amnesia  becomes  clearer.  It  is  a  pathologi- 
cal state  in  which,  the  idea  being  intact  or 
nearly  so,  a  part  of  the  signs  or  all  the  signs 
which  translate  it  are  temporarily  or  forever 
forgotten.  This  general  proposition  must  be 
completed  by  a  more  detailed  study. 

i.  Is  it  true  that  in  aphasic  subjects, 
thought  subsists,  while  its  verbal  and  graphic 
expression  has  disappeared  ? 

I  would  remark  that  it  is  not  incumbent  on 
us  to  inquire  here  whether  one  can  think  with- 
out signs.  The  question  we  have  to  discuss 
is  altogether  different.  The  aphasic  subject 
has  for  a  long  time  been  using  signs:  do  his 
ideas  disappear  with  the  power  of  giving 
them  utterance?  The  facts  answer  in  the 
negative.  Though  authors  are  unanimous  in 
declaring  that  aphasia,  especially  when  it  is 
of  long  standing  and  of  a  serious  character,  is 
always  accompanied  by  a  certain  decline  of 
mental  power,  there  is  no  doubt  that  mental 
activity  persists  even  when  it  has  no  other 
mode  of  expression  but  gestures.  Instances 
abound,  but  I  will  cite  only  a  few. 

Some  patients  deprived  only  of  a  portion 
of  their  vocabulary,  but  unable  to  find  the 
right  word,  substitute  for  it  a  paraphrase  or  a 
description.  For  "scissors"  they  will  say 


"  what  you  cut  with;"  for  window,  "  what 
you  see  through."  They  will  designate  a 
person  by  the  place  he  lives  in,  by  his  titles, 
his  occupation,  his  inventions,  the  books  he 
has  written.* 

In  more  serious  cases  we  see  patients  play- 
ing cards  with  considerable  caution  and  re- 
flection: others  again  are  able  to  superintend 
the  management  of  their  business.  Thus 
we  have  a  great  proprietor  mentioned  by 
Trousseau,  "who  by  means  of  signs  intelli- 
gible to  those  around  him  directed  the  leases 
and  deeds  to  be  laid  before  him,  pointed  out 
modifications  to  be  made  in  them,  and  in 
most  cases  these  modifications  were  useful 
and  based  on  sound  judgment."  A  man 
who  was  totally  deprived  of  the  power  of 
speech,  sent  to  his  doctor  a  detailed  account 
of  his  trouble  written  by  himself  in  very 
correct  language,  and  in  a  very  firm  hand. 

We  have  furthermore  the  testimony  of  pa- 
tients themselves  after  their  recovery.  "I 
had  forgotten  all  words,"  says  one,  "but  I 
retained  fully  my  consciousness  and  my  will. 
I  knew  very  well  what  I  wanted  to  say,  but 
could  not.  When  you,"  (the  physician), 
"asked  me  a  question,  I  understood  you 
perfectly;  I  made  all  sorts  of  efforts  to  reply, 
but  it  was  impossible  to  recall  the  words,  "f 
Rostan,  on  being  stricken  suddenly  so  that 
he  was  unable  either  to  speak  or  to  write  a 
single  word,  ' '  analyzed  the  symptoms  of  his 
disease  and  sought  to  refer  them  to  some 
special  lesion  of  the  brain,  just  as  he  would 
have  done  in  a  clinical  lecture."  Lordat's 
case  is  well  known:  "  He  was  capable  of  ar- 
ranging in  his  mind  the  matter  of  a  lecture, 
of  altering  the  distribution  of  the  several 
headings;  but  when  his  thoughts  had  to  be 
uttered  in  speech  or  in  writing,  it  was  found 
to  be  impossible,  though  there  was  no  par- 
alysis." \ 

We  may  therefore  regard  it  as  proven  that, 
all  means  of  expression  having  disappeared, 
the  intelligence  remains  almost  intact,  and 
consequently  that  the  amnesia  extends  only 
to  signs. 

2.  Does  this  amnesia  depend,  as  we  have 
said  it  does,  especially  upon  the  motor  ele- 
ments ?  When  on  a  preceding  page  we  en- 
deavored to  prove  the  necessary  existence  of 
motor  residua,  we  did  nbt  examine  the  prob- 
lem in  all  its  complexity.  We  must  return 
to  it  : 

When  we  are  learning:  to  speak  our  mother 
tongue  or  a  foreign  language,  certain  sounds, 
acoustic  signs,  are  registered  in  the  brain. 
But  that  registration  is  only  a  part  of  the 


*  Very  often  the  aphasic  patient  confounds  words, 
and  says  "  fire  "  when  he  means  •'  bread,"  or  even 
coins  words  that  aie  unintelligible.  But  these  disor- 
ders seem  to  me  to  be  rather  a  language-disease  than 
a  disease  of  memory. 

+  Legroux,  "  De  1'aphasie,"  p.  06. 

t  For  the  facts  see  especially  Trousteau,  »p.  cit. 
Lordat,  who  is  a  strong  spiritualist,  (»'.  <•.,  advocate  of 
the  doctrine  of  an  immaterial  principle  or  soul  in 
man),  has  from  these  cases  drawn  conclusions  favoring 
the  independence  of  mind. 


38 


THE   DISEASES   OF   MEMORY. 


task,  tor  we  have  to  repeat  these  signs,  to  pass 
from  the  receptive  to  the  active  state,  to 
translate  these  acoustic  signs  into  vocal  move- 
ments. This  operation  is  at  first  very  diffi- 
cult, for  it  consists  in  co-ordinating  move- 
ments that  are  very  complex.  We  are  able 
to  speak  only  when  these  movements  are 
readily  reproduced,  that  is,  when  the  motor 
residua  have  been  organized. 

In  learning  to  write  we  fix  our  eyes  on  the 
copy  ;  optic  signs  are  thus  registered  in  the 
brain  ;  then,  with  much  effort  we  strive  to  re- 
produce these  by  the  motions  of  the  hand. 
Here,  too,  there  is  co-ordination  of  very 
complex  movements.  We  are  able  to  write 
only  when  the  optical  signs  are  immediately 
translated  into  movements,  that  is,  when  the 
motor  residua  are  organized. 

The  same  is  to  be  said  of  music,  drawing, 
acquired  gestures,  (for  instance,  those  taught 
to  deaf  mutes).  The  expressive  faculty  is 
more  complex  than  it  seems  to  be.  Our 
thoughts  and  feelings  have  need  of  an 
acoustic  (or  optical)  memory — a  motor  mem- 
ory. Now,  what  is  there  to  prove  that  it  is 
precisely  this  motor  memory  that  is  affected 
in  cases  of  amnesia  of  signs  ? 

Consider  the  phenomena  observable  in 
most  cases  of  aphasia.  Present  to  the  apha- 
sic  subject  any  familiar  object,  for  instance 
a  knife,  and  call  it  by  some  other  name,  as 
fork,  book,  etc.  ;  he  will  contradict  you. 
Pronounce  the  true  name  and  he  expresses 
assent  by  gesture.  If  you  ask  him  then  and 
there  to  repeat  the  name,  it  is  but  seldom 
that  he  will  be  able  to  do  so.  Therefore,  he 
has  retained  not  only  the  idea  but  also  its 
acoustic  sign  ;  for  this  he  recognizes  among 
many  other  signs.  But  since  he  cannot 
translate  it  into  speech,  though  his  vocal 
organs  are  intact,  it  follows  that  the  amnesia 
must  affect  the  motor  elements. 

The  same  experiment  may  be  made  with 
regard  to  writing.  Among  aphasic  subjects, 
who  are'  not  paralyzed,  it  leads  to  the  same 
results.  The  patient  retains  the  memory  of 
the  optical  signs,  but  has  lost  the  memory  of 
the  movements  necessary  for  their  reproduc- 
tion. Some  patients  can  copy,  but  when  the 
original  is  taken  from  them  they  are  help- 
less. 

However,  while  I  hold  that  motor  amnesia 
exists  in  most  cases,  I  do  not  claim  that  it  is 
always  present.  In  so  complex  a  subject,  it  is 
best  not  to  pronounce  absolutely.  When 
the  aphasia  is  irremediable  we  sometimes 
find  the  patient  forgetting  the  vocal  or  written 
signs,  or  recognizing  them  only  with  great 
difficulty  and  with  much  hesitation.  In  such 
cases  amnesia  is  not  restricted  to  the  motor 
elements.  Again,  some  aphasic  patients  can, 
as  we  have  seen,  repeat  a  word  or  copy  it  ; 
others  can  read  aloud,  though  they  are  un- 
able to  speak  in  conversation.  This  is  an 
exceptional  case  (Falret,  p.  618).  On  the 
other  hand,  many  can  read  to  themselves, 
though  unable  to  read  aloud.  It  has  hap- 


pened, though  rarely,  that  an  aphasic  patient 
would  utter  spontaneously  one  portion  of  a 
phrase,  and  then  be  unable  to  continue. 
Brown  Sequard  cites  even  the  case  of  a  phy- 
sician who  spoke  in  his  dreams,  though 
aphasic  in  the  waking  state.  These  facts, 
infrequent  though  they  be,  show  that  motor 
amnesia  is  not  always  absolute.  It  is  with 
this  form  of  memory  as  with  all  other  forms: 
under  certain  exceptional  circumstances  it 
revives. 

We  may  in  passing  note  an  analogy.  The 
aphasic  patient  who  succeeds  in  repeating  a 
word, exactly  resembles  one  who  is  unable  to 
recall  an  occurrence  save  with  the  assistance 
of  other  persons  :  the  psychological  mech  m- 
ism  of  the  amnesia  of  signs  is  the  same  as 
for  all  other  kinds  of  amnesia  It  consists 
of  a  dissociation  :  a  fact  is  forgotten  when  it 
cannot  be  awakened  by  an  association,  when. 
it  cannot  enter  into  any  series.  In  aphasia 
the  thought  no  longer  calls  forth  its  appro- 
priate sign,  or  at  least  its  motor  expression. 
Here  however,  the  dissociation  is  more  com- 
plete: there  is  dissociation  not  only  between 
terms  united  by  prior  experience,  but  between 
elements  so  knit  together  that  they  form  for 
consciousness  a  unity ;  to  assert  their  rela- 
tive independence  of  one  another  would  seem 
to  be  mere  hair-splitting  were  it  not  demon- 
strated by  pathological  facts.  * 

It  is  this  perfect  fusion  of  the  thought,  the 
sign  (whether  vocal  or  writte.  )  and  the  motor 
element  which  makes  it  so  difficult  to  prove 
clearly  and  indisputably  that  sign-amnesia  is 
mainly  motoi  amnesia.  As  every  state  of 
consciousness  tends  to  translate  itself  into 
motion  ;  and  as,  according  to  Bain's  happy 
phrase,  to  think  is  to  restain  oneself  from 
speech  or  action,  it  is  impossible  by  analysis 
alone  to  draw  clear  lines  of  demarkatiou 
between  these  three  elements.  Still  it  ap- 
pears to  me  that  the  memory  of  vocal  and 
written  signs  which  survives  in  the  intelligent 
aphasic  patient,  represents  fairly  what  has- 
been  called  the  inner  speech,  that  minimum 
of  ideation  without  which  the  mind  would  be 
on  the  way  toward  dementia  ;  and  conse- 
quently that  the  motor  elements  alone  are 
suppressed  in  sign-amnesia. 

On  consulting  what  has  been  written  by 
physicians  who  have  studied  the  psychology 
of  amnesia,  and  they  are  but  few,  I  find  that 
their  doctrine  differs  in  hardly  any  respect 
from  that  here  set  forth,  save  in  terminology. 
"I  have  asked  myself,"  says  Trousseau, 
"  whether  [aphasia]  is  not  simply  a  forgetting 


*  Authors  have  in  late  years  carefully  described  un- 
der the  name  of  "  Word-blindness  "  ( vVordblindheit> 
and  "  Word-deafness"  (Worttaubheit)  maladies  that 
have  long  been  confounded  under  the  gmeral  desig- 
nation of  Aphasia.  The  patient  is  able  to  read  and 
write;  sight  and  hearing  are  well  retained,  and  yet 
the  words  he  reads  or  hears  spoken  have  for  him  no 
meaning.  For  him  they  are  simply  optical  or  acoustic 
phenomena  and  are  no  longer  signs.  This  is  another 
and  rarer  form  of  dissociation.  Kussmaul  gives  de- 
tails. Op.  cit.  chap  i,  aj. 


THE  DISEASES  OF   MEMORY. 


39 


of  the  instinctive  and  harmonic  movements 
which  we  learned  in  early  childhood,  and  which 
constitute  articulate  language  ;  and  whether, 
owing  to  this  forgetting,  the  aphasic  patient 
is  not  in  the  condition  of  a  babe  who  is  learn- 
ing to  babble  his  first  few  words,  or  of  a  deaf 
mute  who,  suddenly  cured  of  his  deafness, 
strives  to  imitate  the  speech  of  those  whom 
he  hears  for  the  first  time.  The  difference 
between  the  asphasic  patient  and  the  deaf 
mute  then  would  be  that  the  one  has  forgot- 
ten what  he  had  learned  and  that  the  other 
has  not  yet  learned  at  all."  (Op.  cit.  p.  718. 

To  the  same  effect  Kussmaul :  "  If  we  con- 
sider memory  as  a  general  function  of  the 
nervous  system,  then,  in  order  that  the  sounds 
be  combined  to  make  words,  there  must  be 
both  an  acoustic  and  a  motor  memory.  Thus 
the  memory  of  words  is  a ,  double  memory, 
first  a  memory  of  words  as  far  as  they  con- 
stitute a  group  of  acoustic  phenomena,  and 
second  a  memory  of  words  as  motor  images. 
(Bewegungsbi  Ider)" . 

It  has  been  justly  remarked  by  Trousseau 
that  aphasia  is  always  reducible  to  loss  of  the 
memory  either  of  vocal  signs  or  of  the  means 
whereby  we  articulate  words.  W.  Ogle  also 
distinguishes  two  word-memories,  one  uni- 
versally known,  whereby  we  have  conscious- 
ness of  a  word,  and  the  other  whereby  we 
give  expression  to  it."  (Op  cit.  p.  156). 

Is  there  any  ground  for  affirming  that  the 
residua  which  correspond  to  an  idea,  those 
which  correspond  to  its  vocal  or  graphic 
sign  and  to  the  movements  which  translate 
both  of  these,  have  their  seats  side  by  side 
in  the  cortex  ?  What  anatomical  inferences 
are  to  be  drawn  from  the  fact  that  one  may 
lose  memory  of  movements  without  losing 
memory  of  the  inner  signs  of  speech,  these 
without  tnat  of  writing,  or  of  writing  without 
that  of  speech  ?  Are  the  motor  residua 
located  in  Broca's  convolution,  as  some 
authors  appear  to  hold  ?  We  can  only 
state  these  questions  ;  it  is  not  for  us  to 
answer  them.  The  relation  between  the 
sign  and  the  idea,  simple  as  it  appears  to 
the  psychologist  who  follows  the  subjective 
method,  is  highly  complex  for  the  positive 
psychologist,  who  is  helpless  until  anatomy 
and  physiology  have  made  further  progress. 

We  have  now  to  consider  sign-amnesia 
under  another  aspect.  We  have  studied  it 
in  itself,  we  will  now  study  it  in  its  evolution. 
I  have  endeavored  to  sho\v  that  it  affects 
especially  the  motor  elements,  and  that  this 
gives  it  its  distinctive  character :  whether 
this  be  accepted  or  not  does  not  concern 
what  follows. 

Sometimes  the  aphasia  is  of  brief  duration. 
Anon,  it  becomes  chronic,  and  in  seeing  the 
patient  after  an  interval  of  some  years  we 
notice  no  appreciable  change.  But  there  are 
cases  where  fresh  apoplectic  attacks  increase 
the  intensity  of  the  malady,  and  then  its 
course  is  progressive  :  such  cases  are  of 
higher  interest  from  our  point  of  view. 


There  is  a  gradual  breaking  up,  and  the 
memory  of  signs  declines  little  by  little  in. 
a  certain  fixed  order.  Briefly  stated,  the 
order  is,  first,  words,  that  is,  rational  speech  ; 
second,  exclamatory  phrases,  interjections, 
what  Max  Muller  calls  "emotional  Uuu 
guage  ;  "  third,  (in  very  rare  cases),  gestures. 

We  will  examine  in  detail  these  three 
stages  of  dissolution ;  we  shall  thus  have  con- 
sidered amnesia  of  signs  in  its  totality. 

I.  The  first  stage  is  by  far  the  most  im- 
portant, as  it  comprises  the  higher  forms  of 
language,  those  which  are  distinctively  hu- 
man, which  express  deliberate  thought.  Some 
physicians,  even  prior  to  the  contemporane- 
ous researches  in  aphasia,  have  remarked  that 
all  other  things  being  equal,  the  memory 
of  proper  names  is  lost  earlier  than  that  of 
common  nouns,  and  that  the  loss  of  commoh 
nouns  precedes  the  loss  of  adjectives.  This 
observation  has  since  been  confirmed  by 
sundry  investigations.  '"  Substantives, "  says 
Kussmaul,  in  his  latest  work,  "and  in 
particular  proper  and  concrete  names  (Sach- 
nainen)  are  more  readily  lost  than  verbs,  ad- 
ject'ves,  conjunctions,  and  other  parts  of 
speech."*  This  fact  has  been  noted  only 
incidentally  by  medical  men,  and  very  few 
of  them  have  inquired  into  its  causes.  In  fact 
it  possesses  for  them  no  clinical  interest,  while 
it  is  highly  important  for  the  psychologist. 

We  see  at  the  first  glance  that  amnesia  pro- 
gresses from  the  particular  to  the  general. 
It  first  affects  proper  names,  which  are  purely 
individual,  then  the  names  of  things,  next 
all  substantives  which  are  but  adjectives  in  a 
special  signification;  f  lastly,  adjectives  and 
verbs  expressive  of  qualities,  modes  of  being, 
acts  and  the  like.  The  scholar  mentioned 
by  Gratiolet,  who,  having  forgotten  all 
proper  names,  was  wont  to  say,  "My 
associate  who  made  such  or  such  an  inven- 
tion," designated  persons,  by  their  qualities. 
It  has  also  been  observed  that  idiots  often 
have  no  memory  save  for  adjectives.  The 
idea  of  quality  is  the  most  stable,  because  it 
is  the  one  first  acquired,  and  because  it  is  the 
basis  of  our  most  complex  conceptions. 

Now,  since  the  particular  is  that  which  has 
least  extension,  and  the  general  that  which  has 
most,  we  may  say  that  the  rapidity  with  which 
the  memory  of  signs  disappears  is  in  inverse 
ratio  to  their  extension  ;  and  since,  cateris 
paribus,  a  term  has  all  the  better  chance  of 
being  repeated  and  fixed  in  the  memory  in 
proportion  as  it  designates  a  greater  number 
of  objects,  and  all  the  less  chance  of  being 
repeated  and  fixed  in  the  memory  in  propor- 
tion as  it  designates  only  a  few  objects,  we 
see  that  this  law  of  dissolution  rests  in  the 
last  resort  upon  experimental  conditions. 


*  "  Die  Storungen  der  Sprache."  p.  164. 

t  The  transformation  of  Adjectives  into  substan- 
tive?, one  of  the  constant  processes  in  the  formation 
of  languages,  is  still  to  be  seen.  Thus,  we  speak  of  a 
"  special'  meaning, "  special"  correspondent, a  "bril- 
liant,'' etc. 


40 


THE   DISEASES   OF    MEMORY. 


As  a  complement  of  these  remarks,  I  will 
quote  a  passage  from  Kussmaul :  "When 
the  memory  is  failing,  the  more  concrete  an 
idea  is,  the  more  quickly  is  the  term  that  ex- 
presses it  lost.  The  reason  of  this  is  that 
our  mental  images  of  persons  and  things  are 
more  loosely  connected  with  their  names 
than  are  abstract  notions,  such  as  their  con- 
dition, their  relations,  their  qualities.  W.e 
easily  figure  to  ourselves  persons  and  things 
without  their  names,  because  here  the'  sen- 
sorial  image  is  more  important  than  that 
other  image  which  is  the  sign,  in  other  words 
their  name.  On  the  other  hand,  we  do  not 
acquire  abstract  ideas  save  by  the  aid  of  words 
which  alone  give  to  them  a  suitable  form. 
Hence  it  is  that  verbs,  adjectives,  pronouns, 
and  particularly  adverbs,  prepositions  and 
conjunctions  are  more  intimately  associated 
with  thoughts  than  are  substantives.  It  may 
well  be  conceived  that  in  the  network  of 
the  corticul  cells,  many  more  phenomena  of 
excitation  and  combination  occur  in  the  case 
of  an  abstract  idea  than  in  that  of  a  concrete 
one,  and  that  consequently  the  organic  con- 
nections that  attach  an  abstract  idea  to  its 
sign  are  far  more  numerous  than  in  the  case 
of  a  concrete  idea"  (op.  cit.  p.  164).  Trans- 
lated into  psychological  language,  this  last 
phrase  amounts  to  what  we  have  already  said, 
namely,  that  the  stability  of  ihe  sign  is  as 
its  organization,  i.  e.,  as  the  number  of  ex- 
periences repeated  and  registered. 

The  science  of  language  also  furnishes  us 
with  very  valuable  data.  At  the  risk  of 
wearying  the  reader  by  a  superabundance  of 
proof,  I  must  take  note  of  these.  As  was  to 
have  been  expected,  the  evolution  of  language 
has  followed  an  order  inverse  to  that  of  the 
loss  of  language  in  aphasia. 

Before  we  cite  in  favor  ot  our  law  the  his- 
toric development  of  languages,  it  might  seem 
natural  that  we  should  ascertain  the  process 
of  language  development  in  the  individual. 
That,  however,  is  impossible.  When  we 
are  learning  to  speak,  our  language  is 
given  to  us  ready-made.  Though  the  babe, 
as  has  been  well  observed  by  Mr.  Taine, 
' '  learns  a  language  already  made,  as  the  true 
musician  learns  counterpoint,  or  the  true 
poet  prosody;  in  other  words,  as  an  original 
genius,"  still  in  reality  he  creates  nothing  at 
all.  We  must  therefore  confine  ourselves  to 
the  historical  evolution  of  language. 

It  is  certain  that  the  Indo-European  lan- 
guages are  descended  from  a  certain  number 
of  roots,  and  that  these  roots  were  of  two 
kinds,  namely,  verb  or  predicative  roots,  and 
pronominal  or  demonstrative  roots.  The 
former,  comprising  verbs,  adjectives  and  sub- 
stantives are,  says  Whitney,  signs  indicating 
acts  or  qualities.  The  others,  whence  come 
the  pronoun  and  the  adverb  (the  preposition 
and  conjunction  are  of  secondary  formation), 
are  few  in  number,  and  denoted  relative  po- 
sition. The  original  form  of  language  signs 
therefore  is  the  attribution  of  qualities.  Then 


the  verb  and  the  adjective  became  discrimina- 
ted. "  Nouns  are  derived  from  verbs  through 
the  participles,  which  are  only  adjectives 
whose  derivation  from  verbs  is  not  yet  oblite- 
rated."* As  for  the  transformation  of  com- 
mon nouns  into  proper  nouns,  that  admits  of 
no  question.  Does  not  the  natural  evolution 
of  language  explain  the  stages  of  its  dissolu- 
tion in  aphasia,  in  so  far  as  we  may  compare 
a  spontaneous  creation  with  the  decay  of 
a  language  artificially  acquired  ? 

2.  In   etting  forth  in  its  most  general  form 
the  law  of  the  regression  of  memory,  we  have 
seen  that  the  memory  of  feelings  is  effaced 
later  than  the  memory  of  ideas.     Logic  leads 
us  to  infer  that  in  the  case  we  are  considering 
— progressive  sign-amnesia — the  language  of 
the  emotions  must  disappear  later  than  the 
language  of  the  reason.     Facts  fully  confirm 
this  deduction. 

The  most  careful  observers — as  Broca, 
Trousseau,  Hughlings  Jaclfon,  Broadbent 
— have  noted  a  great  nurr.be  f  of  cases  where 
aphasic  patients  entirely  deprived  of  speech, 
incapable  of  articulating  spontaneously  a  sin- 
gle word,  are  able  to  utter  not  only  interjec- 
tions, but  also  complete  phrases,  brief  habit- 
ual sentences  expressive  of  anger  or  vexation, 
or  of  pain  for  their  privation.  One  of  the 
most  persistent  forms  of  such  emotional  lan- 
guage is  that  of  profanity. 

We  have  said  that  generally  that  which  is 
of  recent  formation  dies  out  first,  whatever  is 
of  old  formation  disappears  last.  The  re- 
mark is  confirmed  by  what  we  see  here:  the 
language  of  the  emotions  is  formed  before 
that  of  ideas;  it  disappears  later.  So,  too, 
the  complex  disappears  earlier  than  the  sim- 
ple :  and  rational  language,  compared  with 
the  language  of  the  emotions,  is  exceedingly 
complex. 

3.  All  the  foregoing  remarks  are  applicable 
to  gestures.     That  form  of  language — and  it 
is  the  most  natural  of  all — is,  like  the  inter- 
jection, only  a  reflex  mode  of  expression.     It 
appears  in  the  babe  long  before    articulate 
language.  Among  some  savage  tribes  stricken 
with  arrest  of  development,  gestures  play  as 
important   a   part   as   words       This   inborn 
form   of  language  is  seldom   lost.     "Cases 
of  aphasia  in  which  disorders  of  the  mimic  fa- 
culty occur  are  always,"  says  Kussmaul,  "of 
an  exceedingly  complex  character.     In  such 
cases  the  patients  sometimes  are  conscious 
that  they  err  in  the  use  of  gestures,  some- 
times again  they  are  not."     (Op.  cit.  p.  160). 

Hughlings  Jackson,  who  has  carefully 
studied  this  subject,  notes  that  some  aphasic 
subjects  can  neither  laugh  nor  smile,  nor  cry 
except  in  case  of  extreme  emotion.  Further 
he  has  noted  that  some  patients  express 
affirmation  or  negation  by  purely  chance 
gestures:  one  of  them,  who  had  still  at  his 
command  a  few  interjections  and  a  few  gest- 


*  Baudry,  "  La  Science  du  Langage."  p.  16.  For 
fuller  details  consult  the  works  of  Max  Milller  and 
Whitney. 


THE   DISEASES  OF   MEMORY. 


41 


ures,  employed  them  in  a  contrary  sense,  in 
an  unintelligible  way. 

Trousseau  gives  a  very  remarkable  in- 
stance of  pure  motor  amnesia  affecting  gest- 
ures: "  I  would  raise  both  hands  and  move 
my  ringers,  as  though  playing  the  clarionet, 
and  tell  the  patient  to  do  the  same.  He 
forthwith  would  perform  these  movements 
with  perfect  precision.  '  You  see,'  I  would 
say.  '  I  am  acting  as  though  I  played  the 
clarionet,'  to  which  he  would  signify  assent. 
After  a  few  minutes  I  would  ask  him  to  exe- 
cute the  movement  again.  He  would  de- 
liberate, but  in  most  instances  it  was  impos- 
sible for  him  to  perform  this  very  simple 
piece  of  mimicry." 

Thus,  then,  we  have  seen  that  sign-amne- 
sia proceeds  from  proper  nouns  to  common, 
thence  to  adjectives  and  verbs,  and  finally 
affects  the  language  of  the  emotions,  and 
gesture.  This  destructive  process  does  not 
advance  at  random,  but  follows  a  fixed  order, 
from  the  less  organized  to  the  better  organ- 
ized, from  the  complex  to  the  simple,  from 
the  less  to  the  more  automatic.  What  was 
said  above  when  we  laid  down  the  general 
law  of  the  reversion  of  memory  might  be  re- 
peated here,  and  it  is  one  evidence  of  its 
correctness  that  it  is  verified  in  sign-am- 
nesia, the  most  important,  the  most  syste- 
matic and  the  best-known  form  of  partial 
amnesia. 

We  may  now  proceed  to  give  a  counter- 
proof.  When  the  amnesia  of  signs  is  com- 
plete and  memory  is  gradually  coming  back, 
does  this  process  follow  an  order  inverse  to 
that  of  the  disappearance  of  memory?  In- 
stances of  recovery  are  rare.  I  find  one  case, 
however,  mentioned  by  Dr.  Grasset,  where 
a.  man  was  seized  with  "entire  disability  to 
express  his  thoughts  whether  in  words,  or  in 
writing,  or  by  gestures.  Some  days  later  his 
power  of  making  himself  understood  by  gest- 
ures was  seen  to  return  little  by  little — then 
successively  the  power  of  expression  by 
means  of  words,  and  finally  by  means  of 
writing."*  It  is  highly  probable  that  other 
instances  might  be  found  were  the  attention 
of  observers  directed  to  this  point. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

EXALTATION  OF   MEMORY.  OR  HYPERMNESIA. 

General  excitation — Partial  excitation — Re- 
turn of  lost  memories — Return  of  forgotten 
languages — Reduction  of  this  fact  to  the 
law  of  regression — Case  of  false  memory — 
Examples  and  a  suggested  explanation. 

Hitherto,  our  pathological  study  has  been 
limited  to  cases  of  impairment  of  memory. 
But  there  are  cases  cf  a  very  different  kind. 


*  "  Revue  des  Science*  Medicales,"  1873,  vol.  ii,  p' 


where  that  which  seemed  to  have  been  de- 
stroyed revives  and  faint  recollections  recov- 
er their  original  intensity. 

Is  this  exaltation  of  memory,  called  by 
physicians  hypermnesia,  a  morbid  state?  It 
is  at  least  an  anomaly;  and  since  it  is  always 
associated  with  some  organic  trouble  or  some 
singular  and  unusual  condition,  it  unques- 
tionably belongs  to  our  subject.  It  is  a  less 
instructive  object  of  study  than  amnesia,  but 
it  must  not  on  that  account  be  omitted.  Be- 
sides, as  we  shall  see,  it  teaches  us  some- 
thing about  the  persistence  of  recollections. 

Excitations  of  memory  are  either  general 
or  partial. 

I. 

General  excitation  of  memory  is  not  easy 
to  determine,  the  degree  of  excitation  being 
relative.  We  should  have  to  compare  mem- 
ory with  itself  in  the  same  individual.  Since 
the  power  of  this  faculty  differs  widely  be- 
tween different  persons,  there  is  no  common 
measure;  the  amnesia  of  one  person  may  be 
the  hypermnesia  of  another.  It  is  in  fact  a 
change  of  tone  occurring  in  the  memory,  such 
as  may  occur  in  any  other  form  of  psychic 
activity;  whether  thought,  imagination,  or 
sensibility.  Again,  when  we  say  that  the  ex- 
citation is  general,  that  is  merely  a  probable 
induction.  As  memory  is  subject  to  the 
condition  of  consciousness,  and  as  conscious- 
ness exists  only  in  the  form  of  a  series,  all 
that  we  can  prove  is  simply  that  during  a 
longer  or  shorter  period  a  multitude  of  recol- 
lections arise  on  all  sides. 

General  excitation  of  memory  seems  to 
depend  entirely  on  physiological  causes,  and 
in  particular  upon  the  rapidity  of  the  cerebral 
circulation.  Hence,  it  is  of  frequent  occur- 
rence in  high  fevers.  It  also  occurs  in  cases 
of  mania,  ecstasy,  hypnotism,  occasionally  in 
hysteria,  and  in  the  incubation-period  of 
some  brain  diseases. 

Besides  these  strictly  pathological  cases, 
there  are  others  of  a  more  unusual  character 
which  probably  depend  on  the  same  cause. 
Thus,  there  are  narratives  of  drowning  per- 
sons saved  from  imminent  death,  all  of 
which  agree  on  this  point,  viz.,  that  "when 
asphyxia  began,  the  drowning  person  seemed 
to  review  in  an  instant  the  whole  of  his  past 
life  with  all  its  little  details."  One  man 
affirmed  that  ' '  every  instant  of  his  former 
life  seemed  to  glance  across  his  recollection 
in  a  retrograde  succession,  not  in  mere  out- 
line, but  the  picture  being  filled  with  every 
minute  and  collateral  feature  forming  a  kind 
of  panoramic  picture  of  his  entire  existence, 
each  act  of  it  accompanied  by  a  sense  of 
right  and  wrong." 

Under  analogous  circumstances,  "a  man 
of  remarkably  clear  head  was  crossing  a  rail- 
way in  the  country  when  an  express  train,  at 
full  speed,  appeared  closely  approaching  him. 
He  had  just  time  to  throw  himself  down  in 
the  center  of  the  road  between  the  two  lines 


42 


THE   DISEASES   OF   MEMORY. 


of  rails,  and  as  the  train  passed  over  him,  the 
sentiment  of  impending  danger  to  his  very 
existence  brought  vividly  to  his  recollection 
every  incident  of  his  former  life  in  such  an 
array  as  that  which  is  suggested  by  the 
promised  opening  of  '  the  great  book  at  the 
last  great  day.'  "  * 

Even  when  we  make  allowance  for  exag- 
geration, these  facts  reveal  to  us  a  superact- 
ivity  of  memory  of  which  we  can  have  no  idea 
in  the  normal  state. 

1  will  quote  one  more  instance  due  to  opium 
intoxication,  and  I  beg  the  reader  to  note  how 
this  confirms  the  explanation  already  given  of 
the  mechanism  of  recollection.  Says  Thos. 
De  Quincey  :  "I  sometimes  seemed  to  have 
lived  for  seventy  or  one  hundred  years  in  one 
night.  *  *  *  The  minutest  details  of 
childhood,  or  forgotten  scenes  of  later  years, 
were  often  revived.  I  could  not  be  said  to 
recollect  them,  for  if  I  had  been  told  of  them 
when  waking  I  should  not  have  been  able  to 
acknowledge  them  as  parts  of  my  past  expe- 
rience. But  placed  as  they  were  before  me, 
in  dreams  like  intuitions,  and  clothed  in  all 
their  evanescent  circumstances  and  accom- 
panying feelings,  I  recognized  them  instan- 
taneously." f 

All  these  general  excitations  of  memory 
are  transitory,  never  outliving  the  causes  that 
produce  them.  Is  there  a  permanent  form 
of  hypermnesia?  If  the  term  may  be  used 
in  rather  wide  sense,  we  might  apply  it  to  the 
curious  development  of  memory  that  follows 
certain  injuries.  Upon  this  point  we  find  in 
old  authors  stories  that  are  now  controverted; 
instance  the  cases  of  Pope  Clement  VI., 
Mabillon,  and  others.  There  is  no  reason 
to  question  these  stories,  for  modern  observ- 
ers, Romberg  among  them,  have  noticed  a 
remarkable  permanent  development  of  mem- 
ory as  the  result  of  brain  concussion,  small- 
pox, etc.  The  mechanism  of  this  change 
being  inscrutable,  we  need  not  dwell  upon  it. 

II. 

Partial  excitations  of  memory  are,  by  their 
very  nature,  definitely  limited.  When  the 
habitual  tone  of  the  memory  is  as  a  whole 
preserved,  whatever  goes  beyond  that  is  easily 
ascertained.  Such  hypermnesia  is  the  neces- 
sary correlative  of  partial  amnesia  ;  it  proves 
again  and  under  a  new  form  that  memory  is 
made  up  of  memories 

We  find  nothing  resembling  a  law  in  the 
production  of  partial  hypermnesia.  It  mani- 
fests itself  in  isolated  facts,  that  is  to  say  as 
the  result  of  a  concurrence  of  conditions 
which  elude  observation.  Why  is  one  group 
cf  cells  forming  one  particular  dynamic  asso- 
ciation affected  rather  than  another  ?  No 
reason  can  be  given,  whether  physiological  or 
psychological.  The  only  Instances  in  which 
there  is  any  appearance  of  law  are  those  to 


*  For  these  cases  and  others  of  like  nature,  see  Wins- 
tow,  op.  cit.,  p.  333.  et  seq. 
t "  English  Opium-Eater." 


be  mentioned  further  on,  where  several  Ian. 
guages  come  back  successively  to  the 
memory. 

Partial  excitation  most  usually  results  from 
morbid  causes:  these  have  been  already  indi- 
cated. But  sometimes  it  occurs  in  the  state 
of  health.  Here  are  some  examples:  "  A., 
lady  in  the  last  stages  of  a  chronic  disease  / 
was  carried  from  London  to  a  lodging  in  the 
country;  there  her  infant  daughter  was  taken 
to  visit  her,  and  after  a  short  interview  car- 
ried back  to  town.  The  lady  died  a  few 
days  after,  and  the  daughter  grew  up  without 
any  recollection  of  her  mother  till  she  was  of 
mature  age.  At  this  time  she  happened  to 
be  taken  into  the  room  in  which  her  mother 
died,  without  knowing-  it  to  have  been  so;- 
she  started  on  entering  it,  and  when  a  friend 
who  was  along  with  her  asked  the  cause  of 
her  agitation,  she  replied.  '  I  have  a  distinct 
impression  of  having  been  in  this  room  be- 
fore, and  that  a  lady  who  lay  in  that  corner 
and  seemed  very  ill,  leaned  over  me,  and 
wept.' " 

A  clergyman,  of  marked  artistic  tempera- 
ment (this  is  worthy  of  note),  went  with  a 
party  of  friends  to  visit  a  castle  in  Sussex, 
which  he  had  no  recollection  of  having  ever 
seen  before.  "As  he  approached  the  gate- 
way, be  became  conscious  of  a  very  vivid 
ircpressiou  of  having  seen  it  before;  and  he 
'  seemed  to  himself  to  see '  not  only  the  gate- 
way itself,  but  donkeys  beneath  the  arch, 
and  people  on  the  top  of  it.  His  conviction 
that  he  must  have  visited  the  castle  on  some 
former  occasion  made  him  inquire  from  his 
mother  if  she  could  throw  any  light  on  the 
matter.  She  at  once  informed  him  that,  be- 
ing in  that  part  of  the  country  when  he  was 
about  eighteen  months  old,  she  had  gone  over 
with  a  large  party  and  taken  him  in  the  pan- 
nier of  a  donkey;  that  the  elders  of  the  party, 
having  brought  lunch  with  them,  had  eaten 
it  on  the  roof  of  the  gateway  where  thsy 
would  have  been  seen  from  below,  while  he 
had  been  left  on  the  ground  with  the  attend- 
ants and  donkeys."! 

The  mechanism  of  remembering  in  these 
two  instances  leaves  no  room  for  question:  it 
is  a  revival  of  memories  produced  by  nearness 
in  space.  They  simply  present  in  a  more 
striking  and  less  accustomed  way  that  which 
we  see  every  moment  of  our  lives.  Who  is 
there  that,  in  order  to  regain  a  recollection 
that  he  has  for  the  moment  lost,  has  not  gone 
back  to  the  place  where  the  thought  first  pre- 
sented itself,  thus  placing  himself  as  nearly 
as  possible  in  the  same  material  situation,  and 
so  bringing  back  the  recollection  in  an  in- 
stant ? 

As  for  hypermnesia  due  to  any  morbid 
cause,  I  will  cite  only  one  instance,  which 
will  serve  as  a  type:  "  A  boy,  at  the  age  of 
four,  received  a  fracture  of  the  skull,  for 

*Abercrombie,  "  Essay  on  the  Intellectual  Powers," 
p.  120. 

t  Carpenter,  loc.  cit.,  p.  431. 


THE   DISEASES  OF   MEMORY. 


•which  he  underwent  the  operation  of  trepan. 
He  was  at  the  time  in  a  state  of  perfect 
stupor,  and  after  his  recovery  retained  no 
recollection  either  of  the  accident  or  of  the 
operation.  At  the  age  of  fifteen,  during  the 
delirium  of  a  fever,  he  gave  his  mother  a  cor- 
rect description  of  the  operation,  and  the 
persons  who  were  present  at  it,  with  their 
dress  and  other  minute  particulars.  He  had 
never  been  observed  to  allude  to  it  before, 
and  no  means  were  known  by  which  he  coukl 
have  acquired  the  circumstances  which  he 
mentioned."* 

The  recovery  of  languages  that  have  been 
quite  forgotten,  may  well  engage  our  atten- 
tion for  a  moment.  The  case  recorded  by 
Coleridge  is  so  well  known  that  I  shall  not 
speak  of  it.  There  are  many  other  cases  of 
the  same  kind  to  be  found  in  the  works  of 
Abercrombie,  Hamilton  and  Carpenter.  The 
anaesthetic  sleep  produced  by  chloroform  or 
ether  may  produce  the  same  effects  as  febrile 
excitation.  "  An  aged  forester  had  lived  in 
early  life  on  the  Polish  frontier  and  there  had 
spoken  Polish  almost  exclusively.  Later  he 
lived  only  in  German  districts.  His  children 
said  that  for  thirty  or  forty  years  he  had  neither 
heard  nor  spoken  a  word  of  Polish.  During 
two  hours  of  anaesthesia,  he  spoke,  uttered 
prayers,  and  sung  only  in  Polish,  f 

Still  more  curious  than  the  recovery  of  one 
language  is  the  retrogressive  return  of  many 
languages.  Unfortunately  the  authors  who 
have  written  about  this  fact,  report  it  simply 
as  a  matter  of  curious  interest,  without  stat- 
ing all  the  particulars  needed  for  its  inter- 
pretation. 

The  most  clearly  defined  case  is  the  one 
observed  by  Dr.  Rush,  of  Philadelphia,  and 
recorded  in  his  "  Medical  Inquiries  and  Ob- 
servations upon  Diseases  of  the  M ind. "  "  Dr. 
Scandella,  an  ingenious  Italian  who  visited 
this  country  a  few  years  ago,  was  master  of 
the  Italian,  French  and  English  languages. 
In  the  beginning  of  the  yellow  fever,  which 
terminated  his  life,  he  spoke  French  only  ; 
but  on  the  day  of  his  death  he  spoke  only  in 
the  language  of  his  native  country." 

The  same  author  writes  in  rather  confused 
terms  of  a  woman  subject  to  attacks  of  tem- 
porary insanity.  First  she  spoke  in  broken 
Italian  ;  at  the  crisis  of  her  disorder,  in 
French  ;  when  the  fever  was  abating,  in  Ger- 
man ;  when  she  was  beginning  to  convalesce, 
she  returned  to  English,  her  mother  tongue. 

Quitting  these  cases  of  regression  through 
many  languages,  and  turning  our  attention  to 
simpler  cases,  we  find  an  abundance  of  indis- 
putable testimony.  A  Frenchman  living  in 
England  and  speaking  English  fluently,  re- 
ceived a  blow  on  the  head.  During  his  ill- 
ness, he  was  able  to  answer  questions  only  in 
French. 

But  there  is  no  case  more  instructive  than 


*  Abercrombie,  op.  cit.^  p.  149. 

t  Duval,  art    Hypnotisme,  in  "Nouv.au  Diet,  de 
Medecine,"  p.  144. 


one  recorded  by  Dr.  Rush.  I  have  it,  he  says 
in  substance,  from  a  German  Lutheran  min- 
ister residing  in  America,  and  who  had  in  his 
congregation  a  considerable  number  of  Ger- 
mans and  Swedes,  that  when  at  the  point  of 
death  they  nearly  all  utter  their  prayers  in 
their  mother  tongue.  In  visiting  old  Swedes 
upon  their  death- beds  he  was  "  much  struck 
in  hearing  some  of  them  pray  in  the  Swedish, 
language,  who,  he  was  sure  had  not  spoken 
it  for  fifty  or  sixty  years  before,  and  who  had 
probably  forgotten  it." 

Winslow  too  notes  how  Catholics  converted 
to  Protestantism,  during  the  delirium  which 
precedes  death,  pray  almost  exclusively  in  the 
Roman  formulas.  * 

This  return  of  forgotten  languages 
and  formulas,  properly  undersood,  is  sim- 
ply a  special  instance  of  the  law  of  regres- 
sion. In  consequence  of  a  morbid  action 
that  usually  ends  in  death,  the  most  recent 
men.ory-deposits  are  first  destroyed,  and  the 
work  of  destruction  proceeding  by  degrees  to> 
the  earliest  acquisitions  which  are  also  the: 
most  firmly  grounded,  gives  to  them  a  mo- 
mentary activity  and  then  effaces  them  forever. 
Hypermnesia  therefore  is  simply  the  result  of 
conditions  entirely  negative  ;  regression  re- 
sults, not  from  a  normal  return  to  conscious- 
ness, but  from  the  suppression  of  more  vivid,, 
more  intense  states.  These  revived  mem- 
ories are  like  a  feeble  voice  that  can  make  it- 
self heard  only  when  more"  powerful  voices 
are  stilled.  These  acquisitions  and  habits  of 
childhood  or  of  youth  come  into  the  fore- 
ground, not  because  there  is  anything  urging 
them  to  the  front,  but  because  th.re  is 
nothing  any  longer  to  overlie  them.  Revivi- 
scenccs  of  this  kind  are,  strictly  speaking, 
only  a  reversion  back  to  conditions  of  exist- 
ance  that  seemed  to  have  vanished  forever, 
but  which  the  work  of  demolition  brings  to 
light  again.  I  retrain  however  from  the  re- 
flections that  these  facts  so  naturally  suggest, 
and  leave  them  for  the  moralist.  He  will  be 
able  to  point  out  for  instance  how  certain 
religious  reversions  occurring  in  the  last  mo- 
ments of  life,  and  which  make  so  much  noise 
in  the  world  of  polemics,  are  tmt  the  neces- 
sary effect  of  irremediable  dissolution. 

Independently  of  this  unexpected  con- 
firmation of  our  law  of  regression,  the  out- 
come of  our  study  of  hypermnesia  is  a 
knowledge  of  the  surprising  persistence  of 
those  latent  conditions  of  recollection  which 
have  been  called  "residua."  But  for  these 
disorders  of  memory,  we  should  not  have 
suspected  their  existence,  for  consciousness, 
of  itself,  can  only  affirm  the  conservation  of 
the  states  which  constitute  our  everyday  life 
and  of  certain  other  states  which  the  will 
holds  in  dependence  upon  itself,  because 
habit  has  fixed  them. 

Are  we  to  infer  from  the  fact 'of  these  re- 
viviscences  that  nothing  is  lost  from  the 


Op.  cit.  p.  253;  see  also  p   265,  266,  305. 


THE   DISEASES   OF   MEMORY 


memory  ?  That  whatever  is  once  registered 
therein  is  indestructible,  and  that  even  the 
most  transient  impression  may  at  one  time 
or  another  be  revived.  Many  authors,  Maury 
in  particular,  have  contributed  striking  ex- 
amples in  support  of  this  opinion.  But 
•should  any  one  maintain  that,  even  in  the 
absence  of  morbid  causes,  some  residua  dis- 
appear, there  is  nothing  known  whereby  he 
might  be  peremptorily  refuted.  Possibly 
•some  cellular  modifications  and  some  dynamic 
associations  are  too  instable  to  last.  Still  it 
may  be  said  that  persistence,  if  not  the  rule 
without  exceptions,  is  nevertheless  the  rule: 
it  embraces  the  great  majority  of  cases. 

Of  the  mode  in  which  these  old  time  recol- 
lections are  preserved  and  reproduced,  we 
know  nothing,  but  I  may  point  out  how  this 
might  take  place  on  the  hypothesis  set  forth 
in  the  present  work. 

If  we  accept  as  the  material  substratum  of 
-our  recollections  cell  modifications  and  dynam- 
ic associations,  any  memory,  however  bur- 
dened it  may  be  with  impressions,  may  keep 
them  all.  For  though  cell  modifications  are 
limited  in  number,  dynamic  associations  are 
innumerable.  We  may  suppose  that  the  old 
associations  reappear  when  the  new  ones,  dis- 
organized for  a  time  or  permanently,  leave 
the  field  clear  for  them.  The  number  of 
possible  reviviscences  being  much  reduced, 
the  chances  are  proportionately  increased  for 
the  return  of  the  more  stable,  i.  e.,  the  oldest 
associations.  But  I  will  not  dwell  on  an  hy- 
pothesis that  cannot  be  verified.  I  desire  to 
confine  my  observations  to  that  which  can  be 
ascertained. 

We  cannot  refer  to  any  of  the  preceding 
morbid  types  one  illusion  of  a  singular  char- 
acter, one  besides  that  is  of  rare  occurrence 
or  seldom  observed.  Three  cases  of  this  il- 
lusion only  are  on  record,  and  no  specific 
name  has  been  offered  to  designate  it.  Wigan 
has  called  it,  inaptly  enough,  double-con 
sciousness,  and  Sander  defines  it  to  be  an  il- 
lusion of  memory  (Erringerungstauschung). 
Other  authors  have  given  it  the  name  of 
false  memory,  and  this  seems  to  me  to  be 
preferable.  It  consists  in  a  belief  that  a 
state  of  consciousness  that  in  reality  is  new 
was  experienced  oefore,  so  that  when  it  first 
occurs  it  is  thought  to  be  a  repetition. 

Wigan  in  his  well-known  work,  "Duality 
of  the  Mind,"  states  that  while  he  was  at- 
tending the  obsequies  of  the  Princess  Char- 
lotte in  Windsor  Chapel,  of  a  sudden  the 
feeling  came  upon  him  that  before  he  had 
witnessed  the  same  spectacle.  The  illusion 
was  transitory,  but  we  shall  see  cases  in 
•which  it  it  more  lasting.  Lewes  justly 
classts  this  phenomenon  with  others  of  more 
frequent  occurrence.  While  journeying  in 
regions  never  before  visited  by  us,  a  turn  of  the 
road  or  a  bend  in  the  river  brings  us  in  sight 
of  some  landscape  that  we  have  seen  before; 
meeting  a  person  for  the  first  time,  we  feel 
that  we  must  have  seen  him  elsewhere;  on 


reading  in  a  book  a  passage  that  certainly  we 
never  read  before,  we  feel  that  the  thoughts 
have  once  been  in  our  minds. 

This  illusion  is  easily  explained.  The  new 
impression  evokes  from  the  past  similar  im- 
pressions, which,  though  indistinct,  confused, 
evanescent,  still  suffice  to  give  to  the  new 
state  of  consciousness  the  appearance  of  be- 
ing a  repetition.  There  is  a  ground  of  re- 
semblance quickly  perceived  between  the 
two  states  of  consciousness  which  leads  us 
to  identify  them.  It  is  an  error,  but  only  a 
partial  one,  for  there  is  in  reality  in  our  past 
something  that  resembles  a  prior  experience 
of  this  present  impression.  While  this  ex- 
planation may  do  for  very  simple  cases,  there 
are  others  to  which  it  will  not  apply. 

A  patient,  says  Sander,  on  hearing  of  the 
death  of  one  he  had  known,  was  seized  with 
an  indefinable  terror,  because  it  seemed  to 
him  that  he  had  already  had  the  impression. 
"  It  was  as  though,  some  time  ago,  while 
he  was  lying  on  this  very  bed,  X  came  and 
told  me  that  Miiller  was  dead.  I  replied, 
'  Muller  died  some  time  since;  he  cannot  die 
twice.'" 

Dr.  Arnold  Pick  relates  the  most  perfect 
instance  of  false  memory  I  know  of,  the  dis- 
order assuming  an  almost  chronic  form.  Am 
educated  man  who  reasoned  clearly  about 
his  malady,  and  who  wrote  a  description  of 
it,  was,  at  about  the  age  of  thirty-two,  seized 
with  a  peculiar  mental  disorder.  If  he  at- 
tended a  festival,  or  visited  any  place,  or  fell 
in  with  any  one,  the  occurrence,  with  all  its 
circumstances,  seemed  to  him  so  familiar, 
that  he  firmly  believed  that  he  had  already 
had  the  self-same  impressions,  in  the  com- 
pany of  the  same  persons,  under  the  same 
skies,  the  same  weather,  etc.  If  he  did  a 
piece  of  work,  it  seemed  to  him  that  he  had 
done  the  very  same  work  before  under  the 
same  circumstances.  This  feeling  occurred 
to  him  the  same  day,  at  the  end  of  a  few 
minutes,  or  a  few  hours,  sometimes  on  the  next 
day,  but  always  with  perfect  distinctness.  * 

In  false  memory  there  is  an  anomalous 
condition  of  the  mental  mechanism  that 
eludes  observation,  and  which  it  is  difficult  to 
understand  in  the  healthy  state.  The  patient, 
even  though  he  were  a  good  observer,  could 
only  analyze  it  by  ceasing  to  be  under  the 
illusion.  Slill  I  think  these  instances  show 
that  the  impression  received  is  reproduced  in 
the  form  cf  a  sensorial  image-  in  physiologi- 
cal terms,  there  is  a  repetition  of  the  primary 
cerebral  process.  This  is  nothing  extraordi- 
nary, it  is  what  occurs  in  every  recollection 
that  is  not  called  forth  by  the  actual  presence 
of  its  object.  The  difficulty  is  to  say  why 
this  image,  appearing  a  minute,  an  hour,  a 
day,  subsequent  to  the  real  state  of  conscious- 
ness, gives  to  the  latter  the  appearance  of 
being  a  repetition.  We  may  suppose  the 
mechanism  of  recollection,  of  localization  id 


*  "  Archiv  fiir  Psychiatric,"  1876. 


THE   DISEASES   OF   MEMORY. 


time  to  be  working  retrogressively.  I  venture 
to  offer  the  following  explanation  : 

The  image  thus  formed,  as  has  been  said, 
is  highly  intense — of  the  nature  of  an  fuilluci- 
nation.  Consequently  the  real  impression 
is  thrown  into  the  background,  bearing  the 
less  distinct  character  of  a  recollection.  It 
is  localized  in  the  past,  erroneously  if  you 
consider  the  facts  objectively,  rightly  if  you 
consider  them  subjectively.  This  hallucina- 
tional  state,  though  very  vivid,  does  not, 
in  fact,  efface  the  real  impression  ;  but  as  it 
is  produced  by  it  and  becomes  detached  from 
it,  it  appears  like  a  subsequent  experience. 
It  takes  the  place  of  the  real  impression,  ap- 
pears the  more  recent  of  the  two,  and  in 
fact  is  the  more  recent.  For  us  who  look  at 
the  thing  from  without  and  in  the  light  of 
what  has  taken  place  outside  of  the  mind  of 
the  subject,  it  is  not  true  that  the  impression 
has  been  received  twice  ;  but  from  the  point 
of  view  of  the  subject  himself,  who  judges 
according  to  what  consciousness  tells  him, 
it  is  true  that  the  impression  has  been  re- 
ceived twice,  and  within  those  limits  his  as- 
severation is  incontestable. 

In  support  of  this  explanation  I  may  add 
that  false  memory  is  nearly  always  associated 
with  mental  disorder.  The  patient  spoken 
of  by  Pick  was  subject  to  one  form  of  in- 
sanity— he  supposed  himself  to  be  the  victim 
of  persecution.  Hence  the  formation  of 
hallucinational  images  is  quite  natural.  Still 
I  do  not  pretend  that  my  explanation  is  the 
only  possible  one.  The  case  being  so  very 
uncommon,  further  and  more  careful  obser- 
vation is  requisite 


CHAPTER   V. 


CONCLUSION. 

Relations  between  tht  retention  of  perceptions 
and  nutrition,  between  the  reproduction  of 
recollections  and  the  general  and  local  circu- 
lation— Influence  of  the  quantity  and  qual- 
ity of  the  blood — Examples —  The  law  of 
regression  connected  with  a  physiological 
principle  and  a  psychological  principle — 
Recapitulation. 

I. 

So  far  we  have  been  describing  the  dis- 
eases of  memory  and  seeking  the  law  which 
governs  them.  Before  we  conclude  we  must 
say  a  word  as  to  the  causes,  of  course  we 
mean  immediate,  organic  causes.  But  even 
reduced  to  these  terms  the  etiology  of  dis- 
orders of  memory  is  very  obscure,  and  very 
little  is  clearly  ascertained  with  regard  to  it. 

Memory  consists  in  retaining  and  repro- 
ducing: retention  seems  to  depend  above  all 
on  nutrition;  reproduction  on  the  general  or 
the  local  circulation. 

I.  Retention,  which  plays  the   more  im- 


portant part  since  without  it  reproduction  is 
impossible,  presupposes  a  primary  condition 
which  can  only  be  vaguely  defined  as  a  nor- 
mal constitution  of  the  brain.  As  we  have 
seen,  idiots  suffer  from  congenital  amnesia, 
from  innate  inability  to  fix  impressions  in. 
the  memory.  This  primary  condition  is  a 
postulate,  not  simply  a  condition  of  memory, 
but  the  necessary  condition  of  the  existence 
of  memory. 

This  normal  condition  of  the  brain  being 
granted,  it  is  not  enough  that  impressions  be 
received,  they  must  be  fixed,  organically 
registered,  incrusted,  so  to  speak:  they  must 
become  a  permanent  modification  of  the- 
brain;  the  modifications  impressed  upon  the 
nerve-cells  and  nerve-filaments,  and  the 
dynamic  associations  between  these  elements 
must  be  made  stable.  This  result  can  be 
produced  only  by  nutrition.  The  brain,  and 
particularly  the  gray  matter,  receives  an 
enormous  volume  of  blood.  In  no  other  part 
of  the  body  is  the  nutritive  function  so  active 
or  so  rapid.  We  know  not  the  inner  mechan- 
ism of  this  function.  The  minutest  histo- 
logical  research  is  unable  to  trace  the  ar- 
rangements and  rearrangements  of  the  mole- 
cules. We  know  only  the  effects — all  beside 
is  but  induction.  But  all  sorts  of  facts  go  to- 
show  the  close  connection  between  nutrition 
and  memory. 

It  is  matter  of  every-day  observation  that 
children  learn  with  wonderful  facility,  and 
that  anything,  as  languages,  which  calls  only 
for  memory,  is  readily  learned  by  them.  We 
know,  furthermore,  that  habits — that  is  to  say 
one  form  of  memory— are  far  more  easilyformed 
in  childhood,  in  youth,  than  in  maturity.  At 
that  period  of  life,  so  great  is  the  activity  of  the 
nutritive  process  that  new  connections  are 
rapidly  formed.  In  the  aged,  on  the  con- 
trary, a  rapid  effacement  of  new  impression* 
coincides  with  a  considerable  decline  of  this 
activity. 

That  which  is  too  quickly  learned  does  not 
endure.  When  we  say  that  a  thing  is  ' '  as- 
similated," we  use  no  metaphor.  I  shall  not 
dwell  upon  a  truth  that  every  one  is  ever  re- 
peating, little  suspecting  that  this  psychic 
fact  has  an  organic  cause.  To  fix  recollec- 
tions requires  time,  because  nutrition  does 
not  accomplish  its  work  instantaneously:  the 
molecular  movement  constituting  nutrition 
must  proceed  in  one  constant  direction,  and 
this  end  is  served  by  the  periodic  renewal  of 
the  same  impression.* 


*"A  distinguished  theatrical  performer,"  says 
Abercrombie,  "  in  consequence  of  the  sudden  illness 
of  another  actor,  had  occasion  to  prepare  himseif ,  on 
very  short  notice,  for  a  part  which  was  entirely  new 
to  him ;  and  the  part  was  long  and  rather  difficult. 
He  acquired  it  in  a  very  short  time,  and  went  through 
it  with  perfect  accuracy,  but  immediately  after  the 
performance  forgot  every  word  of  it.  Character* 
which  he  had  acquired  in  a  more  deliberate  manner 
he  never  forgets,  but  can  perform  them  at  any  time 
without  a  moment's  preparation;  but  in  regard  to  the 
character  now  mentioned,  there  was  the  further  and 
very  singular  fact  that,  though  he  has  repeatedly 


46 


THE   DISEASES  OF    MEMORY. 


Fatigue  in  every  shape  is  fatal  to  memory. 
The  impressions  received  under  such  condi- 
tions are  not  fixed,  and  the  reproduction  of 
them  is  very  laborious  and  often  impossible. 
Now,  fatigue  is  regarded  as  a  stats  wherein, 
owing  to  the  over  activity  of  an  organ,  the 
nutrition  suffers  and  halts.  When  the  nor- 
mal conditions  are  restored,  memory  comes 
back  again.  The  case  already  quoted  from 
Sir  Henry  Holland  is  decisive  upon  this  point. 

We  have  seen  that  in  cases  of  temporary 
-amnesia,  caused  by  concussion  of  the  brain, 
the  amnesia  is  always  retroactive,  extending 
back  to  a  period  of  greater  or  less  duration, 
anterior  to  the  accident.  This  rule  is  almost 
"without  exception.  Most  physiologists  who 
have  studied  this  phenomenon,  refer  it  to  de- 
fective nutrition  ;  the  organic  registration, 
which  consists  in  a  nutritive  modification  of 
the  cerebral  matter,  has  not  had  time  to  take 
place. 

Finally  it  is  to  be  noted  that  the  gravest 
form  of  disease  of  memory,  namely  the  pro- 
gressive amnesia  of  the  demented,  of  the 
aged,  and  of  general  paralytics,  is  produced 
by  a  steadily  increasing  atrophy  of  the  nerve- 
-elements.  The  tubes  and  the  cells  undergo 
a  process  of  degenerescenca,  and  the  latter 
eventually  disappear,  leaving  behind  an  un- 
•differentiated  mass  of  matter. 

These  physiological  and  psychological  facts 
-all  show  that  there  exists  between  nutrition 
-and  retention  the  relation  of  cause  and  effect. 
There  is  exact  coincidence  between  their 
periods  of  rise  and  fall.  Variations  short  or 
long  in  the  one  are  repeated  in  the  other.  If 
the  one  be  active,  or  moderate,  or  lauguish- 
ing,  so  is  the  other.  Hence  the  retention  of 
recollections  must  not  be  regarded  metaphy- 
sically, and  as  a  "  state  of  the  soul"  subsist- 
ing no  one  knows  where,  but  as  an  acquired 
state  of  the  cerebral  organ  implying  the  pos- 
sibility of  states  of  consciousness  whenever 
their  conditions  of  existence  are  present. 

The  extreme  rapidity  of  nutritive  changes 
in  the  brain,  though  at  first  it  might  appear 
to  cause  instability,  in  fact,explains  the  fix- 
ation of  recollections.  "  The  waste  follow- 
ing activity  is  restored  by  nutrition,  and  a 
trace  or  residuum  remains  embodied  in  the 
-constitution  of  the  nervous  center,  becoming 
more  complete  and  distinct  with  each  suc- 
ceeding repetition  of  the  impression;  an  ac- 
quired na.ure  is  grafted  on  the  original 
nature  of  the  cell  by  virtue  of  its  plastic 
power."  * 


performed  it  since  that  time,  he  has  been  obliged 
•each  time  to  prepare  it  anew,  and  has  never  acquired 
in  regard  toil  that  facility  which  is  familiar  to  him 
in  other  instances.  When  questioned  respecting  the 
mental  process  which  he  employed  the  first  time  he 
performed  this  part,  he  says  that  he  lost  sight  entirely 
of  the  audience,  and  seemed  to  have  nothing  before 
him  but  the  pages  of  the  book  from  which  he  had 
learned  it ;  and  that  if  anything  had  occurred  to  in- 
terrupt the  illusion,  he  should  have  stopped  instant- 
ly." (£>p.  cit.,  p.  103.) 
*  Mautfcley,  "  Physiol.  and  Pathol.  of  the  Mind". 


We  here  touch  the  ultimate  cause  of  mem- 
ory  biologically  considered;  it  is  an  impreg- 
nation. It  is  therefore  not  surprising  that 
an  eminent  English  surgeon,  in  treating  of 
the  indellible  impression  made  by  infectious 
diseases  on  living  tissues,  should  have  in 
dited  the  following  passage,  which  seems 
made  to  our  hand:  "  It  is  asked,"  says  Sir 
James  Paget,  "how  can  the  brain  be  the 
organ  of  memory  when  you  suppose  its  sub- 
stance to  be  ever  changing?  or  how  is  it  that 
your  assumed  nutritive  change  of  all  the  par- 
ticles of  the  brain  is  not  as  destructive  of  all 
memory  and  knowledge  of  sensuous  things 
as  the  sudden  destruction  by  some  great  in- 
jury is  ?  The  answer  is,  because  of  the  ex- 
actness of  assimilation  accomplished  in  the 
formative  process;  the  effect  once  produced 
by  an  impression  on  the  brain,  whether  in 
perception  or  in  intellectual  act,  is  fixed  and 
there  retained ;  because  the  part,  be  it  what 
it  may,  which  has  been  thereby  changed, 
is  exactly  represented  in  the  part  which, 
in  the  course  of  nutrition,  succeeds  to  it."  * 
Paradoxical  as  the  connection  between  an 
infectious  disease  and  memory  may  seem, 
it  is  nevertheless  rigorously  exact,  from  the 
biological  point  of  view. 

II.   In  a  general  way  the  reproduction  of 
recollections  seems  to  depend  on  the  state  of 
the   circulation.     This   point  is  much  more 
obscure  than  the   preceding,   and   the   data 
concerning  it  are  very  incomplete.    One  diffi- 
culty arises  out  of  the  rapidity  with  wh  ch 
|  the   phenomena   succeH    one    another,  and 
.  their  continual  changes.     Another  difficulty 
I  is  due  to  their  complexity.     For  reproduction 
i  does  not  depend  on  the  general  circulation 
I  alone,  but  also  on  the  special  circulation  of 
the  brain,  and  probably  there  are  in  the  latter, 
j  too,  local  variations  that  may  exert  a  strong 
!  influence.     Nor  is  that  all.     We  have,  fur- 
ther,  to  take  into  account  the  quality  no  less 
than  the  quantity  of  the  blood. 

It  is  impossible  to  determine,  even  roughly, 
the  part  played  by  each  of  these  factors  in 
the  mechanism  of  reproduction.  We  must  be 
content  with  showing  that  circulation  and  re- 
production present  correlative  variations.  The 
main  facts  going  to  confirm  this  view  are  as 
follows  : 

Fever  in  its  several  degrees  is  accompanied 
by  cerebral  over-activity,  and  in  this  memory 
largely  shares.  We  have  already  seen  to 
what  a  degree  of  excitation  it  may  attain.  We 
j  know  that  in  fever  the  rapidity  of  the  circu- 
i  lation  is  excessive,  that  the  constitution  of 
the  blood  is  changed,  that  it  is  loaded  with 
elements  resulting  from  too  accelerated  a  pro- 
cess of  combustion.  Here  we  see  a  variation 
in  quality  and  in  quantity,  which  finds  ex- 
pression in  hypermnesia. 

Even  when  no  fever  exists,  ' '  impressions 
of  trivial  things,  in  which  no  particular  inter- 
est was  taken,  often  survive  in  memory  when 


*  "  Lecture  on  Surgical  Pathology." 


THE   DISEASES   OF   MEMORY. 


47 


impressions  of  much  more  important  or  im- 
posing things  fade  away;  and  in  considering 
the  circumstances,  it  will  frequently  be  found 
that  such  impressions  were  received  when  the 
energies  were  high — when  exercise,  or  pleas- 
ure, or  both,  had  greatly  raised  the  action  of 
the  heart.  That  at  times,  when  strong  emotion 
has  excited  the  circulation  to  an  exceptional 
degree,  the  clustered  sensations  yielded  by 
surrounding  objects  are  revivable  with  great 
clearness,  often  throughout  life,  is  a  fact  no- 
ticed by  writers  of  fiction  as  a  trait  of  human 
nature."* 

Note  again  how  easy  and  how  rapid  repro- 
duction is  in  that  period  of  life  when  the 
"blood  flows  swift  and  strong,  but  how  slow 
and  labored,  when  age  slows  the  circulation. 
Also  how  in  the  aged  the  constitution  of  the 
blood  is  changed,  being  less  rich  in  globules 
and  in  albumen. 

In  persons  debilitated  by  protracted  disease, 
memory  grows  weak  with  the  circulation. 
"  Highly  nervous  subjects,  in  whom  the  ac- 
tion of  the  heart  is  greatly  lowered,  habitu- 
ally complain  of  loss  of  memory  and  inability 
to  think — symptoms  which  diminish  as  fast 
as  the  natural  rate  of  circulation  is  re- 
gained." f 

There  is  exaltation  of  memory  whenever 
the  circulation  has  been  modified  by  stimu- 
lants, as  hasheesh,  opium,  etc.,  which  excite 
the  nervous  system  first,  and  then  depress  it. 
Other  therapeutic  agents  produce  the  oppo- 
site effect;  for  instance,  bromide  of  potassium, 
the  action  of  which  is  sedative,  hypnotic, 
retards  the  circulation,  when  taken  in  strong 
doses.  A  certain  preacher  had  to  give  up 
the  use  of  the  bromide,  having  lost  nearly 
all  power  of  memory.  It  returned  when  he 
ceased  to  take  the  medicine. 

The  general  conclusion  to  be  drawn  from 
all  these  facts  is  that  the  normal  exercise  of 
memory  presupposes  an  active  state  of  the 
circulation  and  a  constitution  of  the  blood 
rich  in  the  materials  necessary  for  integra- 
tion and  disintegration.  When  this  activity 
becomes  excessive  there  is  a  tendency  to 
morbid  excitation;  when  it  decreases,  there 
is  a  tendency  to  amnesia.  More  definite  con- 
clusions would  have  to  rest  on  pure  hypothe- 
sis. Why  is  it  that  one  category  of  recol- 
lections rather  than  another  is  revived  or 
effaced  ?  We  know  not.  There  is  in  every 
case  of  amnesia  and  of  hypermnesia  so  much 
that  cannot  be  foreseen  that  it  were  vain  to 
attempt  an  explanation.  Probably  it  is  flit- 
ting organic  modifications,  causes  infinitesi- 
mally  small,  that  make  one  series  of  impres- 
sions more  easy  or  more  difficult  of  recall 
than  others.  Some  physiologists  are  of  the 
opinion  that  limited  and  temporary  eclipses 
of  memory  are  due  to  local,  transitory  modi- 
fications of  the  caliber  of  arteries,  under  the 
action  of  the  vaso-motor  nerves;  and  have 

*  Herbert  Spencer,  "  Principles  of  Psychology," 
I,J.|35. 
f/*..p.  237. 


cited  as  proof  of  this  the  fact  that  the  return 
of  memory  is  sudden,  that  it  is  caused  by 
emotion  and  that  the  emotions  have  a  special 
influence  upon  the  vaso-motor  system. 

In  cases  of  complete  loss  of  memory,  of 
which  we  have  cited  many,  return  depends 
on  the  circulation  and  nutrition.  If  it  is 
sudden,  and  it  but  rarely  is,  the  more  proba- 
ble hypothesis  is  that  of  an  arrest  of  function, 
a  state  of  inhibition  which  is  suddenly  ter- 
minated: this  problem  is  one  of  the  most  in- 
tricate in  nerve  physiology. 

If  the  return  is  the  result  of  reeducation — 
and  this  is  more  usual — nutrition  appears  to 
play  the  principal  part.  The  rapidity  with 
which  the  patient  learns  again  shows  that  all 
was  not  lost.  The  cells  may  have  been 
atrophied,  but  if  their  nuclei  (generally  re- 
garded as  the  sources  from  which  they  are 
reproduced)  give  rise  to  other  cells,  then  the 
bases  of  memory  are  by  that  very  fact  re- 
established: the  new  cells  resemble  the  parent 
cells  in  virtue  of  the  tendency  of  all  organ- 
isms to  maintain  their  type,  and  of  all  acquired 
i  modifications  to  become  transmitted  modifica- 
tions ;  in  this  case,  memory  is  only  a  form  of 
heredity. 

II. 

To  sum  up,  memory  is  a  general  function 
of  the  nervous  system.  Its  basis  is  the 
property  possessed  by  the  nerve-elements  of 
retaining  a  received  modification  and  of  form- 
ing associations.  These  associations,  the  re- 
sult of  experience,  we  have  called  dynamic, 
to  distinguish  them  from  those  which  are 
natural  or  anatomical.  Retention  is  assured 
by  nutrition,  which  is  ever  making  the  modi- 
fications and  associations  stable,  because  it 
is  ever  renewing  the  modified  nerve-sub- 
stance. The  power  of  reproduction  seems 
to  depend  above  all  on  the  circulation. 

Retention  and  reproduction:  thus  does  all 
that  is  essential  to  memory  depend  on  the 
fundamental  conditions  of  life.  The  rest — 
consciousness,  exact  localization  in  the  past 
is  only  a  perfectionment.  Psychic  memory 
is  only  the  highest  and  most  complex  form 
of  memory.  To  restrict  oneself  to  that, 
as  most  psychologists  do,  is  to  condemn  one- 
self in  advance  to  wrestle  with  mere  abstrac- 
tions. 

These  preliminaries  settled,  we  have  classi- 
fied and  described  the  diseases  of  memory; 
and  as  a  precise  observation  is  always  of  far 
more  value  than  a  general  description,  being 
more  instructive  and  more  suggestive,  we 
have  offered  clear  and  authentic  instances  of 
each  morbid  type. 

Having  traversed  a  multitude  of  facts,  we 
have  pointed  out  their  principal  results,  viz., 
first  the  necessity  of  resolving  memory  into 
memories,  the  mutual  independence  of  which 
is  clearly  proved  by  pathological  cases. 
Then  we  have  shown  that  the  destruction  of 
memory  proceeds  according  to  a  law.  Set- 
ting aside  secondary  disorders,  those  of  fcrief 


48 


THE  DISEASES  OF   MEMORY 


duration  and  which  are  less  instructive,  and 
studying  those  whose  evolution  is  normal, 
we  have  shown  that: 

In  general  dissolution  of  memory,  the  loss 
of  recollections,  follows  an  invariable  order, 
namely  :  first,  recent  events  ;  next,  ideas  in 
general  ;  then,  feelings  ;  lastly,  acts. 

In  partial  dissolution  of  the  most  usual 
type.namely,  sign-amnesia, the  loss  of  recollec- 
tion again  proceeds  according  to  an  invariable 
order,  viz.,  proper  names,  common  nouns, 
adjectives  and  verbs,  interjections,  gestures. 

The  order  is  the  same  in  both,  namely, 
theie  is  a  regression  from  the  more  recent 
to  the  older,  from  the  complex  to  the  simple, 
from  the  voluntary  to  the  automatic,  from 
the  less  to  the  more  organized. 

The  exactitude  of  this  law  of  regression  is 
proved  by  the  very  rare  instances  in  which 
progressive  dissolution  of  memory  is  followed 


by  recovery;  the  recollections  in  that  c*9* 
come  back  in  the  inverse  order  of  their  dis- 
appearance. 

By  the  aid  of  this  law  of  regression  we 
have  been  enabled  to  explain  the  extraordi- 
nary reviviscence  of  certain  recollections  as 
a  reversion  of  the  mind  back  to  states  that 
seemed  to  have  been  effaced  forever. 

We  have  connected  our  law  with  the  phy- 
siological principle  that  degenerescence  first 
affects  that  which  is  of  most  recent  forma- 
tion; and  with  the  psychological  principle, 
that  the  complex  disappears  before  the  sim- 
ple, because  it  is  less  often  repeated  in  expe- 
rience. 

Finally,  our  pathological  study  has  led 
us  to  the  conclusion  that  memory  consists  of 
an  organization  process  having  varying  de- 
grees of  perfection  between  these  two  extreme 
limits — the  new  state,  the  organic  registration. 


CONTENTS. 

PAGB. 

PREFACE,    .  i 

CHAPTER  I. — MEMORY  AS  A  BIOLOGICAL  FACT, --.        i 

Memory  essentially  a  biological  fact,  incidentally  a  psychic  fact — Organic  memory — 
Modifications  of  nerve-elements;  dynamic  associations  between  these  elements — 
Conscious  memory — Conditions  of  consciousness:  intensity;  duration — Uncon- 
scious cerebration — Nerve  action  is  the  fundamental  condition  of  memory;  con- 
sciousness is  only  an  accessory — Localization  in  the  past,  or  recollection — Mech- 
anism of  this  operation — It  is  not  a  simple  and  instantaneous  act;  it  consists  of 
the  addition  of  secondary  states  of  consciousness  to  the  principal  state  of  con- 
sciousness— Memory  is  a  vision  in  time — Localization,  theoretical  and  practical — 
Reference  points — Resemblance  and  difference  between  localization  in  the  future 
and  in  the  past — All  memory  an  illusion — Forgetfulness  a  condition  of  memory — 
Retuin  to  the  starting  point:  conscious  memory  tends  little  by  little  to  become 
automatic. 

CHAPTER  II. — GENERAL  AMNESIA,  -        -        -»•-       -       -       -       -       -      I? 

Classification  of  the  diseases  of  memory — Temporary  amnesia — Epileptics — Forget- 
fulness of  certain  periods  of  life — Examples  of  re-education — Slow  and  sudden 
recoveries — Case  of  provisional  memory — Periodical  or  intermittent  amnesia — 
Formation  of  two  memories,  totally  or  partially  distinct — Cases  of  hypnotism 
recorded  by  Macnish,  Azam  and  Dufay— Progressive  amnesia — Its  importance; 
reveals  the  law  which  governs  the  destruction  of  memory — Law  of  regression; 
enunciation  of  this  law — In  what  order  memory  fails — Counter-proof;  it  is  recon- 
stituted in  inverse  order — Confirmatory  facts— Congenital  amnesia — Extraordi- 
nary memory  of  some  idiots. 

CHAPTER  III. — PARTIAL  AMNESIA, 3* 

Reduction  of  memory  to  memories — Anatomical  and  physiological  reasons  for  partial 
memories — Amnesia  of  numbers,  names,  figures,  forms,  etc. — Amnesia  of  signs 
— Its  nature;  a  loss  of  motor-memory— Examination  of  this  point — Progressive 
amnesia  of  signs  verifies  completely  the  law  of  regression — Order  of  dissolution; 
proper  names;  common  nouns;  verbs  and  adjectives;  interjections  and  language 
of  the  emotions;  gestures — Relation  between  this  dissolution  and  the  evolution 
of  the  Indo-European  languages — Counter-proof:  return  of  signs  in  inverse  order. 

CHAPTER  IV. — EXALTATION  OF  MEMORY,  OR  HYPERMNESIA AI 

General  excitation — Partial  excitation — Return  of  lost  memories — Return  of  forgot- 
ten languages — Reduction  of  this  fact  to  the  law  of  regression — Case  of  false 
memory — Examples,  and  a  suggested  explanation. 

CHAPTER  V. — CONCLUSION 45 

Relations  between  the  retention  of  perceptions  and  nutrition,  between  tne  reproduc- 
tion of  recollections  and  the  general  and  local  circulation — Influence  of  the 
quantity  and  quality  of  the  blood — Examples — The  law  of  regression  connected 
wfth  a  physiological  principle  and  a  psychological  principle — Recapitulation. 


THE  DISEASES 


OF 


THE   WILL 

BY    TH.   RIBOT, 

AUTHOR  OF  "THE  DISEASES  OF  MEMORY." 

Translated  from  the  French  by  J.  Fitzgerald,  A.M. 
[COPYRIGHT,  1884,  BY  J.  FITZGERALD.] 


CHAPTER  I. 

INTRODUCTION.— THE    QUESTION 
STATED. 


DURING  the  last  few  years  several  au- 
thors have  treated  in  detail  certain  depart- 
ments of  psychology  according  to  the 
principle  of  evolution,  and  it  has  appeared 
to  me  that  these  questions  might  be  dis- 
cussed with  advantage  in  the  same  spirit 
though  in  a  different  form,  by  studying 
the  process  of  dissolution.  I  propose 
therefore  in  the  present  work  to  attempt 
such  a  study  of  the  Will  as  I  before  made 
of  the  Memory ;  to  investigate  its  anoma- 
lies, and  from  this  research  to  draw  some 
conclusions  touching  the  normal  state. 
In  many  respects  the  problem  that  con- 
fronts us  here  is  more  difficult  than  the 
former  one  :  the  term  will  denotes  some- 
thing more  vague  than  the  term  memory. 
Whether  we  regard  memory  as  a  function, 
a  property  or  a  faculty,  it  is  at  all  events 
a  stable  mode  of  being,  a  psychic  situation 
that  all  may  understand.  The  will  on  the 
other  hand  is  resolvable  into  volitions, 
each  one  of  which  is  a  thing  apart,  an 
instable  form  of  activity,  a  resultant  vary- 
ing according  to  the  causes  that  produce  it. 

Besides  this  first  difficulty  there  is 
another  one  that  might  seem  greater 


still,  but  this  we  shall  have  no  hesitation 
in  dismissing  summarily.  Is  it  possible 
to  study  the  pathology  of  the  will  without 
touching  upon  the  irresolvable  problem 
of  free  will  ?  I  hold  it  to  be  possible,  and 
even  indispensable,  to  abstain  from  such 
discussion  ;  nor  is  it  timidity  that  imposes 
this  abstention  upon  us,  but  simply 
method.  Psychology,  like  all  other  exper- 
imental sciences,  must  strictly  eschew  all 
research  into  first  causes,  and  to  that 
class  of  studies  does  the  problem  of  free 
will  belong.  One  of  the  great  services 
rendered  to  philosophy  by  Kant  and  his 
disciples  consisted  in  proving  that  the 
problem  of  the  freedom  of  the  will  resolves 
itself  into  the  question  whether  we  are 
able  to  place  ourselves  outside  the  series 
of  effects  and  causes  so  as  to  make  an 
absolute  beginning.  This  power  "  which 
summons,  suspends,  or  dismisses,"  as  it 
has  been  defined  by  a  contemporary  writ- 
er who  has  studied  it  profoundly,*  can 
be  affirmed  only  on  the  condition  that  we 
enter  the  domain  of  metaphysics. 

The  task  before  us  here  is  different. 
Experience  both  inward  and  outward  is 
the  one  object  of  our  research  :  its  limits 
are  our  limits.  We  take  volitions  as  facts, 
with  their  immediate  causes,  that  is  to 


*  Renouvier,  "  Essai  de  Critique  Generate,"  ad 
edition,  I.,  395-406. 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


say  the  motives  which  produce  them, 
without  inquiring  whether  these  causes 
suppose  causes  in  infinitum,  or  whether 
there  is  not  some  measure  of  spontaneity 
added  to  them.  Hence  the  question  pre- 
sents itself  in  a  form  equally  acceptable 
to  the  determinists  and  to  their  opponents, 
being  consistent  with  either  hypothesis. 
We  expect  furthermore  to  pursue  our  re- 
searches in  such  a  manner  that  the  ab- 
sence of  any  sort  of  solution  of  the  free 
will  problem  will  not  even  be  noticed. 

I  shall  endeavor  to  show  that  in  every 
voluntary  act  there  are  two  distinct  ele- 
ments, namely  the  state  of  consciousness — 
the  "  I  will  " — which  indicates  a  mental 
situation  but  which  of  itself  possesses  no 
efficiency  ;  and  a  highly  complex  psycho- 
physiological  mechanism  in  which  alone 
the  power  of  acting  or  of  inhibiting  has 
its  seat.  As  this  general  conclusion  can 
only  be  reached  as  the  result  of  particu- 
lar conclusions  furnished  by  pathology, 
I  will  for  the  time  being  abstain  in  this 
introduction  from  any  systematic  view  of 
the  subject,  and  will  simply  consider  the 
will  in  its  twofold  mechanism  of  impul- 
sion and  inhibition,  and  in  its  source — 
the  individual  character — regardless  of 
details  that  do  not  concern  our  subject.* 

The  fundamental  principle  governing 
the  psychology  of  the  will  in  its  impulsive 
form  both  in  the  healthy  and  the  morbid 
state,  is  that  every  state  of  consciousness 
always  tends  to  express  itself,  to  interpret 
itself  by  a  movement,  by  an  act.  This 
principle  is  only  a  particular  phase,  special 
to  psychology,  of  the  fundamental  law  that 
reflex  action  is  the  sole  type  of  all  nerve 
action,  of  all  life  of  relation.  Properly 
speaking  activity  in  an  animal  is  not  a  be- 
ginning but  an  end,  not  a  cause  but  a  re- 
sult, not  a  first  appearance  but  a  sequel. 
This  point  is  of  the  highest  importance, 
and  it  must  not  be  lost  sight  of.  It  alone 
can  explain  the  physiology  and  the  pathol- 
ogy of  the  will,  for  this  tendency  of  the 
state  of  consciousness  to  expend  itself 
in  a  psychological  or  a  physiological  act 
whether  conscious  or  unconscious,  is  the 
one  simple  fact  to  which  are  reducible  all 
the  combinations  and  all  the  complexities 
of  the  highest  will  activity. 

The  new-born  babe,  as  Virchow  define: 
it,  "  is  but  a  spinal  creature."  Its  activity 
is  purely  reflex,  manifested  by  such  a  mul- 


*  The  reader  will  find  in  a  recent  work  by  Schnei- 
•der,  "  Der  Menschliche  Wille  vom  Standpunkte  der 
neueren  Entwickelungstheorien  "  (Berlin,  1882),  s 
;good  monograph  on  the  will  in  its  normal  state 
and  from  the  point  of  view  of  evolution. 


liplicity  of  movements  that  for  a  good  while 
ts  education  must  consist  in  suppressing 
or  in  checking  the  greater  part  of  them. 
This  prodigality  of  reflex  actions,  which 
aas  its  ground  in  anatomical  relations,  ex- 
libits  in  all  its  simplicity  the  transforma- 
tion of  excitations  into  movements.  These 
movements,  whether  they  are  conscious  or 
whether  they  awaken  only  an  inchoate 
consciousness,  in  neither  case  represent 
voluntary  action  :  properly  they  do  but  ex- 
cess the  activity  of  the  species — that 
vhich  has  been  acquired,  organized,  and 
fixed  by  heredity :  but  these  are  the  mate- 
rial out  of  which  the  will  shall  be  fash- 
oned. 

Desire  marks  a  higher  step  in  the  prog- 
ress from  the  reflex  state  to  the  voluntary. 
By  desire  we  understand  the  more  ele- 
mentary forms  of  the  affective  life — the 
only  ones  that  can  exist  prior  to  the  birth  of 
the  intelligence.  Physiologically  these  do 
not  differ  from  reflex  actions  of  a  complex 
nature :  psychologically  they  differ  from 
the  latter  by  the  state  of  consciousness, 
often  very  intense,  which  accompanies 
them.  Like  as  in  reflex  action,  they  tend 
directly  and  irresistibly  to  express  them- 
selves in  acts.  In  the  natural  state,  and 
so  long  as  it  is  free  from  admixture,  desire 
tends  to  satisfy  itself  immediately :  such 
is  its  law  imprinted  in  the  organism. 
Children  and  savages  are  good  instances. 
In  the  civilized  adult  desire  is  no  longer 
in  the  natural  state,  being  altered  or  curbed 
by  education,  habit  or  reflection.  Often 
however  it  resumes  its  right ;  and  history 
shows  that  in  the  case  of  despots,  who  in 
their  own  esteem  and  in  that  of  others 
stand  above  all  law,  desire  rules  uncon- 
trolled. 

Pathology  will  show  us  that  this  form 
of  activity  grows  as  will  power  declines, 
and  persists  when  the  latter  has  disap- 
peared. Nevertheless  it  marks  a  progress 
from  the  first  period,  inasmuch  as  it  de- 
notes a  beginning  of  individuality.  On 
the  common  ground  of  the  activity  which 
belongs  to  the  species,  desire  limns  in 
faint  outline  the  individual  character :  it 
reflects  the  mode  of  reaction  peculiar  to 
an  individual  organism. 

When  a  sufficient  store  of  experiences 
exists  to  allow  of  the  birth  of  the  intelli- 
gence, there  appears  a  new  form  of  activ- 
ity,— ideomotor  activity  it  has  been  called, 
ideas,  thoughts,  being  here  the  cause  of 
movements.  The  term  ideomotor  has  the 
further  advantage  that  it  points  out  the 
relationship  between  these  movements 
and  those  of  reflex  action,  of  which  the 
former  are  but  a  development. 


THE  DISEASES  OF   THE  WILL. 


How  can  a  thought  produce  a  move- 
ment ?  This  question  is  one  that  seriously 
embarrassed  the  old  psychology,  but  it 
presents  no  difficulty  when  we  look  at  the 
facts  as  they  really  are.  It  is  now  a  truth 
currently  accepted  in  cerebral  physiology, 
that  the  anatomical  basis  of  all  our  mental 
states  comprises  both  motor  and  sensorial 
elements.  I  shall  not  dwell  upon  a  ques- 
tion that  has  been  treated  fully  in  another 
place  *  and  which  would  involve  a  digres- 
sion. I  would  simply  repeat  that  our 
sense  perceptions,  especially  the  important 
ones  of  sight  and  touch,  involve  as  inte- 
gral elements  movements  of  the  eye  or  of 
the  members.  And  if  movement  is  an 
essential  element  when  we  see  an  object 
actually,  it  must  play  the  same  part  when 
we  see  an  object  ideally.  Mental  images 
and  ideas,  even  abstract  ideas,  involve  an 
anatomical  substratum  in  which  move- 
ments are  represented  in  one  way  or 
another.  ' 

True,  on  studying  the  question  more 
closely,  it  might  be  said  that  we  must  dis- 
tinguish two  kinds  of  motor  elements,  viz.: 
those  which  serve  to  constitute  a  state  of 
consciousness,  and  those  which  serve  to 
expend  it — the  former  being  intrinsic,  the 
latter  extrinsic.  The  idea  of  a  ball,  for  in- 
stance, is  the  resultant  of  impressions 
made  by  surfaces,  and  of  special  muscular 
adjustments  ;  but  the  latter  are  the  result 
of  muscular  sensibility,  and  as  such  they 
are  sensations  of  movement  rather  than 
movements  proper — they  are  elements 
going  to  make  up  our  idea  of  the  object, 
rather  than  a  mode  of  giving  it  expression. 

Nevertheless  this  close  relation  estab- 
lished by  physiology  between  ideas  and 
movement  enables  us  in  some  measure 
to  see  how  the  one  produces  the  other. 
In  reality,  an  idea  does  not  produce  a 
movement.  Were  an  idea,  as  defined  by 
the  spiritualists,!  to  produce  a  play  of  the 
muscles,  it  were  little  short  of  a  miracle. 
It  is  not  the  state  of  consciousness,  as 
such,  but  the  corresponding  physiological 
state,  which  is  transformed  into  an  act.,  In 
short  the  relation  is  not  between  a  psy- 
chic event  and  a  movement,  but  between 
two  states  of  the  same  kind — between  two 
physiological  states,  two  groups  of  ner- 
vous elements,  the  one  sensitive,  the  other 
motor.  So  long  as  we  persist  in  regard- 
ing consciousness  as  a  cause,  all  is  ob- 
scure ;  but  when  we  look  upon  it  as  sim- 
ply the  accompaniment  of  a  nervous  proc- 


*  "  Revue  Philosophique,"  Oct.,  1879. 

t  As  opposed  to  "Materialists."  It  need  hardly 
be  said  that  the  author  has  not  in  mind  "  Spirit- 
ists." or  "  Spirit  Rappers." — TRANSLATOR. 


ess,  which  alone  is  the  essential  element, 
all  becomes  clear,  and  factitious  difficul- 
ties vanish. 

This  granted,  we  can  roughly  classify 
ideas  in  three  groups,  according  as  their 
tendency  to  transform  themselves  into 
acts  is  strong,  moderate  or  weak  and  in  a 
certain  sense  null. 

1.  The  first  group  comprises  intellect- 
ual  states  of  high  intensity :  fixed  ideas 
may  be  regarded  as   the  type  of  these. 
They  pass  into  act  almost  with  the  rapid- 
ity of  reflex  actions.     These  are   ideas 
that  "  come  home  to  us."    The  old  psy- 
chology, affirming  a  fact  of  every  day  ex- 
perience, used  to  say  in  its  own  language 
that  the  intelligence  does  not  act  upon 
the  will  save  through  the  intermediation 
of  the  sensibility.     This  means  that  the 
nervous  state  corresponding  to  an  idea  is 
more  readily  translated  into  a  movement, 
in   proportion  as  it  is  accompanied   by 
those  other  nervous  states,  whatever  they 
may  be,  which  correspond  to  feeling  or 
sentiment.     Nervous  action  is  more  en- 
ergetic in  proportion  to  the  number  of  ele- 
ments upon  which  it  acts. 

Most  of  the  passions  when  they  rise 
above  the  level  of  mere  appetite,  are  to 
be  referred  to  this  group  as  principles  of 
action.  The  whole  difference  is  one  of 
degree  only,  according  as  the  affective 
elements  predominate,  or  vice  "versa,  in 
the  complex  thus  formed.* 

2.  The  second  gjroup  is  the  most  im- 
portant   for  us.     It   represents  rational 
activity — the  will  in  the  common  accepta- 
tion of  the  word.     Here  the  thought  is 
followed  by  the  act  after  longer  or  shorter 
deliberation.     If  we  reflect  we  shall  find 
that  most  of  our  actions  are  reducible  to 
this  type,  allowance  being  made  for  the 
forms  already  mentioned,  and  for  habits. 
Whether  I  rise  to  take  the  air  at  my  win- 
dow, or  whether  I  enlist  in  the  army  with 
the   purpose   of  becoming  some  day  a 
general,  the  difference  is  only  one  of  more 
and  less ;  a  highly  complex  volition  like 
that  last  instance  resolving  itself  into  a 
series    of    simple    volitions    successively 
adapted  to  times  and  places.    In  this 

*  The  relative  independence  of  thought  and  feel- 
ing as  causes  of  movement  is  clearly  demonstrated 
by  certain  pathological  cases.  It  may  happen  that 
the  idea  of  a  movement  is  of  itself  incapable  of  pro- 
ducing that  movement :  but  let  emotion  be  added 
and  it  is  produced.  A  man  that  is  paralyzed  cannot 
by  any  effort  of  will  move,  say,  his  arm,  yet  it  will 
be  strongly  agitated  under  the  influence  of  an  emo- 
tion caused  by  the  arrival  of  a  friend.  In  the  case 
of  softening  of  the  spinal  cord  inducing  paralysis 
an  emotion,  or  a  question  addressed  to  the  pa- 
tient may  give  rise  to  more  violent  movements  in 
the  inferior  members,  upon  which  the  will  has  no 
action. 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


group  the  tendency  to  act  is  neither  in- 
stantaneous nor  violent.  The  concomi- 
tant affective  state  is  moderate.  Many 
of  the  actions  which  constitute  the  ordi- 
nary course  of  our  lives  were  at  first  ac- 
companied by  a  feeling  of  pleasure,  or 
curiosity  and  the  like :  now  that  feeling 
is  weakened,  still  the  connection  between 
the  idea  and  the  act  is  fixed :  when  the 
idea  comes  up  in  the  mind,  the  act  follows. 
3.  With  abstract  ideas  the  tendency  to 
movement  is  at  a  minimum.  These  ideas 
being  representations  of  representations, 
pure  schematisms,  generalized  concepts, 
the  motor  element  is  minimized  in  the 
same  degree  as  the  representative  element. 
If  we  were  to  look  upon  all  the  forms  of 
activity  we  have  been  considering  as 
successive  complications  of  simple  reflex 
action,  we  might  say  that  abstract  ideas 
are  a  collateral  ramification  weakly  at- 
tached to  the  main  trunk,  and  which  has 
developed  in  its  own  way.  Their  motor 
tendency  is  restricted  to  that  inner  speech, 
feeble  as  it  is,  which  accompanies  them, 
and  to  the  awakening  of  some  other  state 
of  consciousness.  For  just  as  in  physiol- 
ogy the  centrifugal  period  of  a  reflex  ac- 
tion does  not  always  end  in  a  movement, 
but  quite  as  often  in  the  secretion  of  a 
gland  or  in  some  trophic  action ;  so  in 
psychology  a  state  of  consciousness  does 
not  always  end  in  a  movement,  but  in  the 
summoning  up  of  other  states  of  con- 
sciousness, according  to  the  well  known 
mechanism  of  association. 

The  contrast  so  often  noted  between 
contemplative  minds,  who  live  among  ab- 
stractions, and  practical  men  is  only  the 
outward  palpable  expression  of  the  psy- 
chological differences  just  mentioned.  A 
few  commonplace  observations  may  be 
cited  here,  as  the  difference  between 
knowing  what  is  right  and  practicing  it, 
between  recognizing  the  absurdity  of  a 
creed  and  renouncing  it,  between  con- 
demning an  unlawful  passion  and  with- 
standing the  same.  All  this  is  explained 
by  the  fact  that  the  motor  tendency  of 
ideas,  left  to  themselves,  is  exceedingly 
weak.  We  know  not  what  are  the  anatom- 
ical and  physiological  conditions  requisite 
for  the  production  of  an  abstract  idea,  but 
we  may  without  rashness  affirm  that  once 
it  becomes  a  motive  to  action  other  ele- 
ments are  added  to  it :  this  is  the  case 
with  those  who  are  "  devoted  to  an  idea." 
Men  are  governed  by  feeling  and  senti- 
ment. 

In  the  light  of  the  foregoing  remarks  vol- 
untary activity  appears  to  us  as  a  stage  in 


that  progressive  evolution  which  proceeds 
from  simple  reflex  action,  where  the  ten- 
dency to  movement  is  irresistible,  to  the 
abstract  idea.where  the  tendency  to  action 
is  at  the  minimum.  We  are  unable  to  de- 
termine precisely  its  beginning  or  its  end, 
the  transition  from  one  forrn  to  another 
being  almost  imperceptible.  Of  set  purpose 
and  for  the  sake  of  clearness  we  have  not 
examined  the  problem  in  its  complexity  : 
we  have  even  eliminated  one  of  the  essen- 
tial characteristic  elements  of  will.  Re- 
garded as  we  have  regarded  it  so  far, 
will  might  be  defined  as  a  conscious  act, 
more  or  less  deliberate,  having  in  view  an 
end  whether  simple  or  complex,  proximate 
or  remote.  It  is  thus  that  contemporary 
authors,  as  Maudsley  and  Lewes,  under- 
stand it,  when  they  define  it  to  be  impulse 
by  ideas,  or  the  motor  reaction  of  feelings 
and  ideas.  Thus  understood,  volition 
would  be  simply  permissive.  But  it  is 
something  very  different.  It  is  also  a 
power  of  arrestation,  or,  to  use  the  lan- 
guage of  physiology,  a  power  of  inhibi- 
tion. 

For  a  psychology  grounded  only  on  in- 
ner observation  this  distinction  between 
permitting  and  hindering  is  of  little  im- 
portance ;  but  for  a  psychology  that  seeks 
to  find  in  the  physiological  mechanism 
some  explication  of  the  operations  of  mind, 
and  which  regards  reflex  action  as  the 
type  of  all  activity,  it  is  of  vital  signifi- 
cance. 

The  currently  received  doctrine  teaches 
that  the  will  is  a.  fiat  which  the  muscles 
obey  no  one  knows  how.  On  this  hy- 
pothesis it  matters  little  whether  the  fiat 
commands  a  movement  or  an  inhibition. 
But  if  with  all  contemporary  physiologists 
we  hold  that  reflex  action  is  the  type  and 
the  basis  of  all  action  whatever,  and  if 
consequently  there  is  no  occasion  to  ask 
why  a  state  of  consciousness  is  trans- 
formed into  a  movement — for  that  is  the 
law — we  have  still  to  explain  why  it  is  not 
transformed.  Unfortunately  physiology 
is  full  of  obscurity  and  indecision  touching 
this  point. 

The  simplest  instance  of  the  phenome- 
non of  inhibition  is  seen  in  the  suspension 
of  the  movements  of  the  heart  by  excita- 
tion of  the  pneumogastric  nerve.  We 
know  that  the  heart  (independently  of  the 
intracardiac  ganglia)  is  innervated  by 
nerve  filaments  coming  from  the  great 
sympathetic  which  accelerate  its  pulsa- 
tions, and  by  filaments  from  the  vagus 
nerve.  Section  of  the  latter  increases  the 
movements  ;  excitation  of  its  central  ter- 
minus on  the  contrary  suspends  them  for 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


a  longer  or  shorter  time.  The  vagus 
therefore  is  an  inhibiting  nerve,  and  inhi- 
bition is  generally  regarded  as  the  result 
of  interference.  The  reflex  activity  of  the 
cardiac  centers  is  retarded  or  suspended 
by  excitations  coming  from  the  medulla. 
In  other  words,  the  motor  action  of  the 
pneumogastric  expends  itself  in  the  car- 
diac centers  and  produces  an  arrest  of 
movement.  This  has  no  direct  psycho- 
logical significance,  but  here  is  something 
that  concerns  us  more  nearly : 

It  is  a  well  known  fact  that  the  reflex 
excitability  of  the  spinal  cord  becomes 
greater  when  it  is  withdrawn  from  the 
action  of  the  brain.  The  state  of  decapi- 
tated animals  gives  striking  evidence  of 
this.  But  not  to  recur  to  those  extreme 
cases,  we  know  that  reflex  action  is  much 
more  intense  during  sleep  than  in  the 
waking  state.  To  account  for  this  some 
authors  have  held  that  there  are  in  the 
brain  centers  of  inhibition.  Setschenow 
locates  them  in  the  optic  thalami  and  in 
the  region  of  the  tubercula  quadrigemina, 
his  ground  being  the  fact  that  when  we 
stimulate  by  chemical  or  other  means  the 
parts  named,  we  produce  a  depression  of 
the  reflex  actions.  Goltz  locates  the  cen- 
ters of  inhibition  in  the  brain  proper. 

These  and  other  similar  hypotheses  * 
have  been  sharply  criticized,  and  many 
physiologists  hold  simply  that  in  the  nor- 
mal state  excitations  are  distributed  both 
to  the  brain  taking  an  upward  route  and 
to  the  spinal  cord  by  a  transverse  route  ; 
and  that  on  the  other  hand  in  cases 
where  the  brain  cannot  play  a  part,  the 
excitations  now  finding  only  one  route 
open,  the  result  is  a  sort  of  accumulation, 
the  effect  of  which  is  an  excessive  reflex 
excitability.  Ferrier  t  holds  that  in  the 
frontal  lobes  are  to  be  found  controlling 
centers  which  are  the  essential  factor  of 
attention. 

Not  to  go  into  further  detail,  it  is  seen 
that  for  explaining  the  mechanism  of  in- 
hibition we  have  no  clear  and  generally 
accepted  theory  such  as  we  have  with  re- 
gard to  reflex  action.  Some  authors 
hold  that  inhibition  results  from  two  con- 
trary tendencies  clashing  or  destroying 
each  other ;  others  maintain  the  existence 
of  inhibition  centers  (and  even  inhibiting 
nerves)  capable  of  suppressing  instead  of 
re-enforcing  a  transmitted  impulse ;  and 


33  seq.    He  will  mere  find  an  account  ol  the  ex- 
•iments  of  Setschenow,  Goltz,  Schiff,    Herzeri, 
on.  and  others,  with  their  interpretations. 
•  "  The  Functions  of  the  Brain,    §§  103,  104. 


there  are  sundry  other  hypotheses,  out  it 
would  be  of  no  advantage  to  enumerate 
them.*  In  this  state  of  ignorance,  we 
must  examine  the  question  as  best  we 
may. 

In  all  voluntary  inhibition  two  things 
have  to  be  considered  :  the  mechanism 
that  produces  it — of  .  this  we  have  just 
spoken ;  and  the  state  of  consciousness 
that  accompanies  it :  of  this  we  have  to 
speak  now.  In  the  first  place  there  are 
cases  where  the  inhibition  needs  no  expla- 
nation— where  the  will  incitation  ceases 
of  its  own  accord  :  for  instance,  when  one 
throws  aside  a  decidedly  tedious  book. 

Other  cases  appear  to  be  explained  by 
one  or  other  of  the  hypotheses  mentioned. 
We  voluntarily  arrest  laughter,  yawning, 
coughing  and  certain  passionate  move- 
ments, by  putting  in  action,  apparently, 
the  antagonistic  muscles. 

In  cases  where  as  yet  we  know  not  how 
inhibition  is  produced,  where  the  physio- 
logical mechanism  is  unknown,  pure  psy- 
chology may  teach  us  something.  Take 
the  most  commonplace  instance — a  fit  of 
anger  stayed  by  the  will.  Lest  we  exag- 
gerate the  power  of  the  will,  we  would 
remark  that  such  inhibition  is  far  from 
being  the  rule.  Some  individuals  appear 
to  be  utterly  incapable  of  it.  Others  ex- 
ercise it,  but  very  unequally,  their  power 
of  inhibition  varying  according  to  times 
and  circumstances.  Few  men  are  at  all 
times  masters  of  themselves. 

The  first  condition  of  the  exercise  of 
this  power  is  time.  If  the  incitation  to 
anger  be  so  violent  as  to  pass  immediately 
into  action,  that  is  the  end  of  it.  What- 
ever may  be  the  excess  of  passion  there  is 
no  help  for  it.  But  if  the  condition  of 
time  be  filled  ;  if  the  state  of  conscious- 
ness calls  up  antagonistic  states,  and  if 
these  are  sufficiently  stable,  then  there  is 
inhibition.  The  new  state  of  conscious- 
ness tends  to  suppress  the  other  one,  and 
by  weakening  the  cause  puts  a  check  on 
the  'effects. 

It  is  of  supreme  importance  for  the 
pathology  of  the  will  to  investigate  the 
physiological  phenomenon  that  takes  place 
in  such  cases.  There  is  no  doubt  that  the 
quantity  of  the  nervous  influx — whatever 
our  opinion  may  be  as  to  its  nature — va- 
ries between  individuals,  and  from  one 
moment  to  another  in  the  same  person. 
Neither  is  there  any  doubt  that,  at  a  given 
moment,  in  any  individual,  the  available 
quantity  may  be  variably  distributed.  It 


*  See  Wundt's"  Mechanikder  Nerven  :"  Lewes's 
"  Physical  Basis  of  Mind  " 


6 


THE  DISEASES  OF   THE  WILL. 


is  clear  that  in  the  case  of  the  mathema- 
tician making  a  computation  and  in  that 
of  a  man  gratifying  a  physical  passion 
the  quantity  of  nervous  influx  is  not  ex- 
pended in  the  same  way,  and  that  one 
form  of  expenditure  prevents  the  other,  as 
the  available  capital  cannot  be  employed 
at  once  for  two  purposes. 

"  We  see,"  says  a  physiologist,  "  that  the 
excitability  of  certain  nerve  centers  is  reduced 
by  calling  other  nerve  centers  into  action, 
if  the  excitations  that  reach  the  latter  possess 
a  certain  intensity.  If  we  consider  the  normal 
f unctionment  of  the  nervous  system,  we  find 
that  there  exists  a  necessary  equilibrium  be- 
tween the  different  apparatus  of  this  system. 
This  equilibrium  may  be  destroyed  by  the 
abnormal  predominance  of  certain  centers, 
which  seem  to  divert  to  their  own  advantage 
too  large  a  proportion  of  the  nervous  activity ; 
as  a  consequence,  the  f  unctionment' of  the  other 

centers  appears  to  be  disturbed There  are 

certain  general  laws  that  govern  the  distri- 
bution of  the  nervous  activity  at  the  differ- 
ent points  in  the  system,  as  there  are  mechan- 
ical laws  which  govern  the  circulation  of  the 
blood  in  the  vascular  system:  if  any  great 
perturbation  occurs  in  an  important  vascular 
department  the  effect  is  necessarily  felt  at  all 
other  points  in  the  system.  These  laws  of 
hydrodynamics  we  can  appreciate  because 
the  fluid  in  circulation  is  accessible  to  us, 
and  because  we  know  the  properties  of  the 
vessels  that  contain  it,  the  effects  of  elasticity, 
of  muscular  contraction,  etc.  But  who  knows 
the  laws  of  the  distribution  of  nervous  activ- 
ity, of  the  circulation  of  what  has  been  called 
the  nerve  fluid  ?  We  recognize  the  effects  of 
breaks  in  the  equilibrium  of  nerve  activity, 
but  these  are  disturbances  essentially  variable, 
nor  can  they  be  reduced  under  any  theory. 
We  can  only  note  their  production,  taking 
account  of  the  conditions  that  accompany 
them."* 

Applying  these  general  considerations 
co  our  particular  case,  what  do  we  find  ? 
The  original  state  of  consciousness  (an- 
ger) has  called  forth  antagonistic  states 
which  necessarily  vary  in  different  indi- 
viduals— the  idea  of  duty,  the  fear  of  God, 
the  opinion  of  men,  the  law,  disastrous 
consequences,  etc.  The  result  is  the  pro- 
duction of  a  second  center  of  action,  or 
in  physiological  language,  a  diversion  of 
the  nervous  afflux,  a  weakening  of  the 
first  state  to  the  advantage  of  the  second. 
Is  this  diversion  sufficient  to  restore  the 
equilibrium  ?  The  event  alone  can  decide. 

Still  when  the  inhibition  takes  place,  it 
is  always  only  relative,  and  its  only  re- 
sult is  that  the  action  is  weaker.  What 
remains  of  the  original  impulse  expends 


*  Franck,  "  Dictionnaire  Encyclopeclique  des  Sci- 
ences M&licales,"  art.  NERVEUX. 


itself  as  best  it  can  through  half-restrained 
gestures,  in  perturbation  of  the  viscera, 
through  some  artificial  outlet,  as  for  in- 
stance in  the  case  of  the  soldier  who  when 
he  was  being  shot  to  death,  chewed  a  bullet 
so  that  he  might  not  make  any  exclamation. 
Very  few  persons  are  so  endowed  by  na- 
ture or  so  formed  by  habit  as  to  be  able 
to  reduce  their  reflex  actions  to  impercep- 
tible movements. 

This  diversion  of  the  nervous  influx 
therefore  is  not  a  primordial  fact,  but  a 
state  of  secondary  formation,  set  up  by 
means  of  an  association  at  the  expense  of 
the  state  which  it  displaces. 

We  would  observe  that  in  addition  to- 
these  two  antagonistic  centers  of  action 
there  are  other  causes  which  tend  to 
weaken  directly  the  primitive  impulse. 

But  we  must  examine  the  difficulty 
more  closely,  for  though  the  coexist- 
ence of  their  two  antagonistic  states  *  suf- 
fices to  produce  indecision,  incertitude, 
non-action,  it  is  not  sufficient  to  produce 
voluntary  inhibition  in  the  true  sense  of 
the  phrase,  "  I  will  not."  One  condition 
more  is  needed,  and  this  is  found  in  an  af- 
fective element  of  the  highest  importance, 
of  which  we  have  not  yet  spoken.  The 
feelings  and  emotions  are  not  all  stimu- 
lants to  action :  many  of  them  have  a  de- 
pressive effect.  Of  these  terror  may  be 
regarded  as  the  extreme  type.  In  its 
highest  degree,  terror  paralyzes.  A  man 
suddenly  visited  with  a  great  affliction  is 
incapable  of  any  reaction,  whether  volun- 
tary or  reflex.  The  cerebral  anaemia,  the 
arrest  of  the  heart's  action — often  produc- 
ing death  by  syncope — the  profuse  per- 
spiration with  chilling  of  the  skin,  the  re- 
laxation of  the  sphincter  muscles  :  all  these 
prove  the  excitability  of  the  muscular, 
vaso-motor,  secretory  and  other  centers 
to  be  for  the  time  being  suspended.  The 
case  is  an  extreme  one,  but  it  gives  us  a 
view  of  the  subject  as  through  a  magni- 
fying glass.  Between  terror  and  indiffer- 
ence we  have  all  possible  degrees  of  fear 
with  the  corresponding  degrees  of  depres- 
sion. 

If  from  this  maximum  we  descend  to- 
moderate  fear,  the  depressive  effect  grows 
less,  but  without  changing  its  character. 
How  do  we  arrest  the  movements  of  an- 
ger in  a  child  ?  By  threats,  by  reprimands, 
that  is  to  say  by  producing  a  new  state 
of  consciousness  of  a  depressing  kind,  ca- 
pable of  checking  action.  "  An  infant  of 
three  and  a  half  months,"  says  B.  Perez. 


*  Of  course  we  do  not  separate  them  from  their 
physiological  conditions,  which  are  the  principal  el- 
ement. 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


'•'  knows  from  one's  looks,  from  the  tone 
of  one's  voice,  when  he  is  reprimanded. 
He  frowns,  his  lips  quiver  convulsively, 
he  pouts  for  an  instant,  his  eyes  fill  with 
tears,  and  he  is  ready  to  cry."  The  new 
state  therefore  tends  to  supplant  the  old 
not  only  by  its  own  force,  but  also  by  the 
weakness  it  imposes  on  the  whole  physi- 
cal structure. 

If,  in  spite  of  repeated  menaces  there  is 
no  inhibition,  the  individual  is  hardly,  if  at 
all,  capable  of  education  in  this  respect. 
But  if  inhibition  is  produced  the  result  is 
that,  in  virtue  of  a  well  known  law,  an  as- 
sociation tends  to  be  formed  between  the 
two  states  :  the  first  calls  forth  the  second 
— its  corrective — and  from  habit  inhibition 
becomes  more  and  more  easy  and  rapid. 
With  those  who  are  masters  of  themselves 
inhibition  takes  place  with  the  certainty 
that  always  marks  a  fully  developed  habit. 
Of  course  temperament  and  character  are 
of  more  importance  than  education. 

Hence  it  is  not  matter  of  surprise  that 
a  storm  of  passion  should  give  way  before 
a  passionless  idea,  before  states  of  con- 
sciousness whose  motor  tendency  is  quite 
weak.  The  reason  is  that  back  of  these 
lies  an  accumulated  force,  latent  and  un- 
conscious, as  we  shall  see. 

To  understand  this  paradox,  we  must 
study,  not  the  educated  adult  person,  who 
reflects,  but  the  child.  In  the  child — and 
the  savage,  the  man  of  gross  nature  and 
incapable  of  education  is  comparable  to  a 
child — the  tendency  to  act  is  immediate. 
The  work  of  education  consists  precisely 
in  awakening  these  antagonistic  states. 
And  by  education  we  understand  not  only 
the  training  the  child  gets  from  others, 
but  also  that  which  he  acquires  by  him- 
self. 

I  do  not  consider  it  necessary  to  prove 
that  all  sentiments  and  feelings  which 
produce  inhibition,  as  fear  or  respect  for 
persons,  law,  usage,  fear  of  God,  and  the 
like,  originally  were  and  ever  are  depres- 
sive states  which  tend  to  diminish  action. 

In  short,  the  phenomenon  of  inhibition 
may  be  accounted  for,  in  a  way  sufficient 
for  our  purpose,  by  an  analysis  of  the 
psychological  conditions  under  which  it 
occurs,  whatever  theory  one  may  enter- 
tain as  to  its  physiological  mechanism. 
It  were  no  doubt  desirable  to  have  clearer 
notions  on  this  point,  to  have  a  fuller 
understanding  of  the  modus  operandt 
whereby  two  almost  simultaneous  exci- 
tations neutralize  each  other.  Were  this 
obscure  question  cleared  up  our  concep- 
tion of  the  will  as  a  power  of  inhibition 
would  be  more  precise,  and  perhaps  it 


would  be  different.  But  we  must  needs 
wait  for  this  consummation.  We  shall 
again  meet  this  difficult  problem  under 
other  forms. 

So  far  we  have  been  considering  volun- 
tary activity  under  an  exclusively  analyti- 
cal form,  but  this  can  give  us  no  exact 
idea  of  it,  nor  exhibit  it  in  its  totality.  It 
is  neither  a  simple  transformation  of  states 
of  consciousness  into  movement,  nor  a 
mere  power  of  inhibition  :  it  is  a  reaction 
proper  to  the  individual.  We  must  dwell 
upon  this  point,  for  without  it  the  pathol- 
ogy of  the  will  is  unintelligible. 

The  primary  character  of  voluntary 
movements  consists  in  their  \>€u\<gadapted, 
but  this  character  they  have  in  common 
with  the  vast  majority  of  physiological 
movements :  the  difference  is  only  one  of 
degree. 

Apart  from  movements  of  the  patho- 
logical order  (convulsions,  chorea,  epi- 
lepsy, etc.),  .which  occur  in  the  form  of  a 
violent  and  irregular  discharge,  adapta- 
•tion  is  found  from  the  top  to  the  boftom 
of  the  scale. 

Ordinary  reflex'  actions  are  reactions  of 
the  spinal  cord  adapted  to  conditions  that 
are  very  general  and  therefore  very  sim- 
ple ;  and  they  are  uniform  and  invariable 
between  one  individual  and  another,  save 
in  exceptional  cases.  They  possess  a 
specific  character.*  Another  group  of 
reflex  actions  represents  the  reactions  of 
the  base  and  of  the  middle  portion  of  the 
encephalon — the  medulla,  the  corpora 
striata,  the  optic  thalami.  These  reac- 
tions too  are  adapted  to  general  conditions 
that  vary  little,  but  which  are  much  more 
complex :  they  exhibit  the  "  sensorimo- 
tor "  activity  of  some  authors.  Even 
these  are  specific  rather  than  individual, 
being  very  much-the  same  in  all  the  indi- 
viduals of  the  same  species. 

The  reflex  actions  of  the  brain,  espe- 
cially those  of  the  highest  type,  consist  of 
a  reaction  adapted  to  conditions  highly 
complex,  variable  and  instable,  and  differ- 
ing between  one  individual  and  another, 
and  from  one  moment  to  another  in  the 
same  individual.  These  are  the  ideomo- 
tor  reactions — volitions.  *  How  perfect 
soever  this  adaptation  may  be,  it  does  not 
concern  us  here.  It  is  only  an  effect,  the 
cause  of  which  is,  not  volition,  but  intel- 
lectual activity.  The  intelligence  being  a 
correspondence,  a  continual  adjustment 
of  internal  relations  to  external,  and  in  its 
highest  form  a  perfectly  coordinated  ad- 


*  That  is,  they  belong  to  the  species.— TRANSLA- 
TOR. 


s 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


justment,  the  coordination  of  these  states 
of  consciousness  implies  coordination  of 
the  movements  that  express  them.  So 
soon  as  an  end  is  chosen,  it  acts  after  the 
manner  of  what  is  called  by  metaphysi- 
cians a  final  cause  :  it  involves  the  choice 
of  the  means  proper  for  its  attainment. 
The  adaptation  therefore  is  a  result  of 
the  mechanism  of  the  intelligence.  This 
point  need  not  detain  us. 

But  what  interests  us  is  this  choice, 
this  preference  declared  after  a  longer  or. 
shorter  comparison  of  the  motives.  This 
it  is  which  represents  the  individual  reac- 
tion, as  distinguished  from  the  specific 
reactions  :  in  the  pathology  of  the  will  the 
former  is  sometimes  superior,  sometimes 
inferior  to  the  latter. 

What  is  this  choice?  Considered  in 
its  form,  it  is  nothing  but  a  practical 
affirmation,  a  judgment  that  executes  it- 
self. It  is  to  be  noted  that  considered 
physiologically  and  from  without  there  is 
nothing  to  distinguish  a  voluntary  from 
an  involuntary  movement :  the  mechanism 
is  the  same  whether  I  wink  my  eyes  re- 
flexly  or  as  a  signal  to  an  accomplice.* 
Considered  psychologically  and  from 
within,  there  is  nothing  to  distinguish  a 
judgmenfin  the  logical  sense  of  that  term, 
*>.,  a  theoretic  affirmation,  from  a  volition, 
save  that  the  latter  expresses  itself  by  an 
act  and  thus  is  a  judgment  put  in  exe- 
cution. 

But  what  is  it  considered  in  its  essence 
and  not  merely  in  its  form  ?  We  will 
dwell  for  a  moment  on  this  point  and  will 
endeavor  to  throw  some  light  upon  it.  By 
descending  to  a  few  very  lowly  biological 
facts  we  shall  perhaps  better  understand 
wherein  a  choice  consists.  I  shall  not 
wander  afield  in  search  of  analogies — for 
instance,  the  affinity  of  the  magnet  for 
iron.  In  the  vegetable  kingdom  I  shall 
simply  quote  the  fact  that  insectivorous 
plants,  as  Dionasa,  choose  certain  bodies 
that  come  in  contact  with  them,  to  the 
exclusion  of  other  bodies.  So  too  the 
Amoeba  chooses  certain  organic  frag- 
ments for  its  nourishment.  These  facts 
are  incontestable,  but  they  are  difficult  of 
interpretation.  They  are  explained  in  a 
general  way  on  the  theory  of  a  relation 
between  the  molecular  composition  of  the 


*  Physiologists  distinguish  between  voluntary 
and  involuntary  muscles,  but  admit  that  the  dis- 
tinction is  in  no  wise  absolute.  There  are  persons, 
like  E.  F.  Weber,  the  physiologist,  who  can  at  will 
stay  the  movements  of  the  heart ;  others,  like  Fon- 
tana,  who  can  produce  contraction  of  the  iris,  and 
so  on.  A  movement  is  voluntary  when,  after  re- 
peated successful  experiments,  it  becomes  asso- 
ciated with  a  state  of  consciousness  and  falls  under 
its  control. 


organism  choosing  and  the  organic  sub- 
stance chosen.  No  doubt  the  choice  is 
exercised  here  in  a  very  narrow  field  ;  no 
doubt,  too,  this  is  the  rudest  form  of 
choice.  With  the  rise  and  development 
of  a  more  and  more  complex  nervous  sys- 
tem this  blind  affinity  is  transformed  into 
a  conscious  tendency,  and  then  into  sev- 
eral contradictory  tendencies  whereof  one 
gains  the  mastery — the  one  which  repre- 
sents the  maximum  of  affinity.  Exam- 
ple :  a  dog  hesitating  between  several 
pieces  of  meat  and  choosing  one.  But  in 
every  case  the  choice  expresses  the  nature 
of  the  individual  at  a  given  moment,  un- 
der given  circumstances,  in  a  given  de- 
gree :  that  is  to  say,  the  weaker  the  affin- 
ity the  less  marked  the  preference.  Hence 
we  may  affirm  that  the  choice,  whether  it 
results  from  one  tendency  or  from  many 
tendencies,  from  a  present  sensation,  from 
images  recalled,  from  complex  ideas,  or 
from  complicated  calculations  projected 
into  the  future,  is  always  based  on  an 
affinity,  an  analogy  of  nature,  an  adapta- 
tion. This  is  true  of  animals  whether  the 
lower  or  the  higher,  and  of  man,  with  re- 
spect either  to  vice  or  to  virtue,  science, 
pleasure  or  ambition.  To  restrict  our  re- 
marks to  man,  two  or  more  states  of  con- 
sciousness arise  as  possible  ends  of  action ; 
after  some  oscillations  one  end  is  pre- 
ferred, chosen.  Why  so,  unless  it  is  that 
between  this  state  and  the  sum  of  states 
conscious,  subconscious  and  unconscious 
(the  latter  purely  physiological)  which  at 
this  moment  constitute  the  person,  the 
Ego,  there  exists  agreement,  analogy  of 
nature,  affinity  ?  This  is  the  only  possi- 
ble explanation  of  the  choice,  unless  we 
say  it  is  without  a  cause.  Some  one  sug- 
gests that  I  kill  my  friend  :  that  tendency 
is  rejected  with  horror,  excluded  ;  that  is 
to  say  it  is  in  contradiction  to  my  other 
tendencies  and  feelings,  there  is  no  asso- 
ciation possible  between  it  and  them,  and 
by  that  very  fact  it  is  suppressed. 

In  the  mind  of  the  criminal  on  the  con- 
trary there  appears  to  be  a  certain  agree- 
ment, that  is  an  analogy,  between  the 
murder  and  his  feelings  of  hate  or  avarice, 
and  consequently  it  is  chosen,  affirmed  as 
something  that  ought  to  be.  Hence  con- 
sidered as  a  state  of  consciousness,  voli- 
tion is  nothing  but  an  affirmation  (or  a 
negation) .  It  resembles  a  judgment,  with 
this  difference,  that  the  one  expresses  a 
relation  of  agreement  (or  disagreement) 
between  ideas,  while  the  other  expresses 
the  same  relation  between  tendencies  ; 
that  while  the  one  is  a  repose  for  the 
mind,  the  other  is  a  stage  of  progress 


THE  DISEASES  OF   THE  WILL. 


9 


toward  action;  while  the  one  is  an  ac- 
quisition, the  other  is  an  alienation,  for 
intelligence  is  a  saving  and  will  an  ex- 
penditure. But  volition  in  itself,  as  a 
state  of  consciousness,  has  no  more  power 
of  producing  an  act  than  the  judgment 
has  of  producing  a  truth.  That  power 
comes  from  another  source.  We  will  re- 
turn, toward  the  conclusion,  to  this  im- 
portant point.* 

The  ultimate  reason  of  choice  is  there- 
fore in  the  character,  that  is  to  say  in 
that  which  constitutes  the  distinctive 
mark  of  the  individual  in  the  psychologi- 
cal sense,  and  differentiates  him  from  all 
•other  individuals  of  the  same  species. 

Is  the  character,  or,  to  use  a  more  general 
term,  the  person,  the  Ego,  which  for  us  is 
a  cause — is  it  in  its  turn  an  effect  ?  Un- 
doubtedly it  is,  but  we  are  not  concerned 
here  with  the  causes  which  produce  it. 
The  science  of  character,  which  40  years 
ago  John  Stuart  Mill  regarded  as  a  de- 
sideratum, does  not  yet  exist,  nor  will  it 
ever,  in  my  opinion.  Were  there  such  a 
science  we  should  have  only  to  accept  its 
results,  without  essaying  an  excursion  in- 
to its  domain,  for  to  be  ever  tracing  ef- 
fects to  their  causes  would  be  to  follow 
the  devious  steps  of  metaphysics.  As 
regards  the  matter  in  hand,  we  repeat, 
character  is  an  ultimate  fact,  a  true  cause, 
though  for  another  order  of  research  it  is 
an  effect.  We  would  remark  in  passing, 
and  as  a  simple  suggestion,  that  character 
— the  Ego  so  far  as  it  reacts — is  an  ex- 
ceedingly complex  product  to  the  forma- 
tion of  which  heredity  and  physiological 
circumstances  both  anterior  and  posterior 
to  birth,  as  education  and  experience,  have 
contributed.  We  may  also  affirm  that 
what  constitutes  character  is  affective 
states,  and  the  individual's  own  feelings, 
much  more  than  any  intellectual  activity. 
It  is  the  general  tone  of  the  individual's 
feelings,  the  general  tone  of  his  organism 
that  is  the  first  and  the  true  motor.  If 
this  is  lacking,  the  individual  cannot  ex- 
ercise will  at  all,  as  we  shall  learn  from 
pathology.  It  is  precisely  because  this 


*  What  has  been  said  amounts  simply  to  a 'state- 
ment of  the  evident  fact  that  a  choice  proceeds  al- 
ways in  the  direction  of  the  greatest  pleasure.  No 
animal,  whether  void  of  reason  or  gifted  with  it, 
whether  sound  or  diseased  can  will  anything  save 
what  seems  to  it  at  the  moment  to  be  its  greater 

food  or  its  less  evil.  Even  the  man  who  elects 
eath  rather  than  disgrace  or  apostasy,  chooses  the 
less  disagreeable  alternative.  Individual  character 
and  development  of  the  reason  cause  the  choice  now 
to  rise  very  high,  again  to  fall  very  low  ;  yet  always 
it  tends  toward  that  which  promises  more  pleasure. 
The  contrary  is  impossible.  This  is  a  psychologi- 
cal truth  so  clear  that  the  ancients  held  it  to  be  an 
axiom,  and  it  has  taken  volumes  of  metaphysics  to 
obscure  ;*. 


fundamental  state  is,  according  to  the  in- 
dividual constitution,  stable  or  fluctuating, 
continuous  or  variable,  strong  or  weak, 
that  we  have*  three  principal  types  of  will 
— strong,  weak  and  intermittent — with 
all  intermediate  degrees  and  shades  of 
difference  between  the  three.  But  these 
differences,  we  repeat,  spring  from  the 
character  of  the  individual,  and  that  de- 
pends upon  his  special  constitution.  We 
cannot  push  the  inquiry  beyond  that  point. 

We  are  thus  fully  in  agreement  with 
those  who  say  that  the  predominance  of 
a  motive  by  itself  does  not  explain  voli- 
tion. The  preponderant  motive  is  only  a 
part  of  the  cause,  and  always  the  weak- 
est part  too,  though  the  most  visible  :  nor 
has  it  any  efficaciousness  except  inasmuch 
as  it  is  chosen,  that  is,  as  it  forms  an  in- 
tegral part  in  the  sum  of  the  states  con- 
stituting the  Ego  at  a  given  moment,  and 
as  its  tendency  to  action  is  added  to  the 
group  of  tendencies  that  spring  from  the 
character,  forming  one  with  them. 

Hence  it  is  not  necessary  to  look  on  the 
Ego  as  an  entity  nor  to  place  it  in  some 
transcendental  region,  in  order  to  recog- 
nize in  it  a  causality  of  its  own.  It  is  a 
very  plain  fact  of  experience*  the  contrary 
is  incomprehensible. 

Physiologically  all  this  meanc  that  the 
voluntary  act  differs  both  from  simple  re- 
flex action,  where  one  impression  is  fol- 
lowed by  one  contraction,  and  from  the 
more  complex  forms  of  reflex  action 
where  one  impression  is  followed  by  a 
number  of  contractions ;  that  it  is  the 
result  of  the  entire  nervous  organization, 
which  itself  reflects  the  nature  of  the 
whole  organism,  and  which  reacts  in  con- 
sequence. 

Psychologically  it  means  that  the  vol- 
untary act  in  its  complete  form  is  not 
merely  the  transformation  of  a  state  of 
consciousness  into  movement,  but  that 
it  presupposes  the  participation  of  that 
whole  group  of  conscious  or  subconscious 
states  which  make  up  the  Ego  at  a  given 
moment. 

We  are  therefore  justified  in  defining 
the  will  to  be  an  individual  reaction,  and 
in  regarding  it  as  that  which  is  inmost  to 
us.  The  Ego,  albeit  an  effect,  is  a  cause, 
and  that  in  the  strictest  sense. 

To  sum  up,  we  have  seen  that  from  the 
lowest  reflex  action  to  the  highest  act  of 
will  the  transition  is  imperceptible,  and 
that  we  cannot  say  precisely  where  volition 
proper,  that  is  the  personal  reaction,  be- 
gins. The  difference  is  most  pronounced 
at  the  two  ends  of  the  series :  at  one  end 
extreme  simplicity,  at  the  other  extreme. 


10 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


complexity  ;  on  one  hand  a  reaction  that 
is  ever  the  same  in  all  the  individuals  of 
the  same  species,  on  the  other  a  reaction 
which  varies  according  to  the  individual. 
Simplicity  and  permanence,  complexity 
and  change  are  here  paired. 

From  the  evolution  standpoint  all  these 
reactions  clearly  were  in  their  origin  in- 
dividual. They  have  become  specific, 
from  having  been  repeated  times  beyond 
number  in  the  individual  and  in  the  race. 
The  beginning  of  will  is  found  in  the 
property  of  reacting  possessed  by  all  liv- 
ing matter,  and  its  extinction  in  the 
property  possessed  by  living  matter  of 
acquiring  habits ;  and  it  is  this  involuntary 
activity,  fixed  and  unalterable,  which 
serves  as  the  groundwork  and  the  instru- 
ment of  the  individual  activity. 

But  among  the  higher  animals  the  he- 
reditary legacy,  the  chance  circumstances 
of  birth,  the  continual  adaptation  to  con- 
ditions that  vary  every  instant,  do  not  per- 
mit the  individual  reaction  to  become  fixed 
nor  to  assume  the  same  form  in  all  the 
individuals.  The  complexity  of  their  en- 
vironment is  their  safeguard  against  au- 
tomatism. 

Here  we  bring  to  an  end  these  prelim- 
inary remarks,  the  only  purpose  of  which 
was  to  prepare  the  ground  for  the  pathol- 
ogy of  the  will,  which  we  are  now  to 
consider. 

CHAPTER  II. 

IMPAIRMENT  OF  THE  WILL. — LACK   OF 
IMPULSION. 

As  we  have  seen,  the  term  will  denotes 
acts  differing  widely  with  respect  to  the 
conditions  of  their  genesis,  but  all  pos- 
sessing this  character  in  common,  that 
they  represent  in  one  form  or  another,  in 
one  degree  or  another,  a  reaction  of  the 
individual.  Without  reverting  to  that 
analysis  we  would  for  clearness'  sake  note 
two  external  characters  which  distinguish 
all  true  volition  :  it  is  a  definitive  state  ; 
and  it  is  expressed  by  act. 

Irresolution,  which  is  the  beginning  of 
a  morbid  state,  has  inner  causes  which 
pathology  will  enable  us  to  grasp ;  it 
springs  from  the  weakness  of  the  incite- 
ments, or  from  their  ephemeral  action. 
Of  persons  of  irresolute  character  some — 
though  these  are  very  few  indeed — are 
such  from  affluence  of  ideas.  The  work 
of  comparing  motives,  of  balancing  argu- 
ments, of  calculating  consequences  con- 
stitutes an  exceedingly  complex  cerebral 
state,  wherein  the  tendencies  to  action 


interfere  with  one  another.  But  affluence 
of  ideas  is  not  6"Htself  a  sufficient  cause 
of  irresolution  ;  it  is  only  an  adjuvant. 
The  true  cause  here  as  everywhere  is  in 
the  character. 

This  is  seen  more  clearly  in  persons  of 
irresolute  will  who  have  few  ideas.  They 
always  act  in  the  direction  of  least  action 
or  of  weakest  resistance.  Their  delibera- 
tion results  with  difficulty  in  making  up 
their  minds,  and  after  they  have  made  a 
choice  the  next  step,  action,  is  more 
difficult  still. 

Volition  on  the  contrary  is  a  definitive 
state ;  it  closes  the  debate.  By  it  a  new 
state  of  consciousness — the  motive  chosen 
— is  imported  into  the  Ego  as  an  integral 
part  of  it,  to  the  exclusion  of  other  states. 
The  Ego  is  thus  constituted  fixedly.  In 
fickle  natures  this  definitive  action  is  al- 
ways provisional,  that  is,  the  Ego  willing 
is  so  instable  a  compound  that  the  most 
insignificant  state  of  consciousness  that 
happens  to  arise  modifies  it,  alters  it.  The 
compound  formed  at  this  moment  has  no- 
force  of  resistance  the  moment  following. 
In  all  the  states  conscious  and  uncon- 
scious that  each  moment  represent  the 
causes  of  volition,  the  part  played  by  the 
individual  character  is  a  minimum,  the 
part  played  by  external  circumstances  a 
maximum.  Here  we  have  that  lower  form 
of  will  mentioned  before  which  is  simply- 
permissive. 

We  must  not  forget  that  to  will  is  to- 
act  and  that  volition  is  a  passing  to  action. 
To  reduce  the  will  as  some  do  to  a  simple 
resolution,  that  is,  to  the  theoretic  affirma- 
tion that  such  or  such  an  act  will  be  done, 
is  to  base  it  upon  an  abstraction.  Making 
the  choice  is  but  one  step  in  the  will  proc- 
ess. If  it  does  not  translate  itself  into- 
act,  whether  immediately  or  at  the  fit  time, 
then  it  is  in  no  wise  distinguishable  from 
a  logical  operation  of  the  mind. 

The  diseases  of  the  will  we  divide  into 
two  principal  classes,  accordingly  as  they 
indicate  that  the  will  is  impaired,  or  that 
it  is  abolished, 

Impairment  of  the  will  constitutes  the 
most  important  part  of  its  pathology ;  it 
exhibits  the  will  mechanism  deranged. 
We  shall  consider  cases  of  impairment  of 
the  will  under  two  heads,  viz.:  i.  Impair- 
ment of  the  will  from  lack  of  impulse ;  2. 
Impairment  of  the  will  from  excess  of  im- 
pulse. We  will  consider  separately,  3,  im- 
pairment of  voluntary  attention,  on  ac- 
count of  its  great  importance.  And  4,  un- 
der the  head  of  "  Caprices,"  we  will  study 
a  special  state,  wherein  will  either  is  not 
constituted  at  all,  or  only  by  accident. 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


The  first  group  comprises  certain  sim- 
ple and  well  denned  phenomena  that  may 
be  studied  with  profit.  We  find  in  the 
normal  state  many  of  the  elements  of  this 
group  in  those  soft  and  pliant  characters 
who  in  order  to  act  require  that  another 
will  should  be  joined  to  theirs ;  but  dis- 
ease will  exhibit  to  us  this  state  enor- 
mously exaggerated.  Guislain  has  de- 
scribed in  general  terms  that  impairment 
which  physicians  designate  by  the  term 
aboulia :  "The  patients,"  he  says,  "can 
will  to  themselves,  mentally,  according  to 
the  dictates  of  reason.  They  may  feel  a 
desire  to  act,  but  they  are  powerless  to 
make  a  move  toward  that  end.  .  .  .  Their 
will  cannot  overpass  certain  bounds  :  one 
might  say  that  this  force  of  action  under- 
goes an  arrest.  The  /  will  is  not  trans- 
Formed  into  impulsive  will,  into  active  de- 
termination. Some  patients  are  them- 
selves surprised  at  the  impotence  with 
which  their  will  is  stricken.  .  .  .  Left  to 
themselves,  they  will  pass  whole  days  in 
bed,  or  sitting  in  a  chair.  When  spoken 
to  or  aroused,  they  speak  rationally 
though  curtly  ;  they  judge  of  things  fairly 
enough."* 

As  those  patients  are  the  most  interest- 
ing whose  intelligence  is  intact,  we  shall 
cite  such  cases  only.  One  of  the  earliest 
observations,  and  the  best  known  of  all, 
we  owe  to  Esquirol.  "  A  magistrate,"  he 
writes,  "  highly  distinguished  for  his  learn- 
ing and  his  power  as  a  speaker,  was  seized 
with  an  attack  of  monomania,  in  conse- 
quence of  certain  troubles  of  mind.  He 
regained  entirely  his  reason,  but  he  would 
not  go  into  the  world  again,  though  he 
acknowledged  himself  to  be  in  the  wrong 
in  not  doing  so ;  neither  would  he  attend 
to  his  business  though  he  well  knew  that 
it  suffered  in  consequence  of  this  whim. 
His  conversation  was  both  rational  and 
sprightly.  When  advised  to  travel  or  to 
attend  to  his  affairs,  '  I  know,'  he  would 
answer, '  that  I  ought  to  do  so,  but  I  am 
unable.  Your  advice  is  very  good  ;  I  wish 
I  could  follow  it ;  I  am  convinced ;  but 
only  enable  me  to  will,  with  the  will  that 
determines  and  executes.  ...  It  is  cer- 
tain,' said  he  one  day  to  me,  '  that  I  have 
no  will  save  not  to  will,  for  I  have  my 
reason  unimpaired,  and  I  know  what  I 
ought  to  do,  but  strength  fails  me  when  I 
ought  to  act.'  "  t 

Prof.  J.  H.  Bennett  records  the  case  of 


*  Guislain,  "  Lemons  Orales  sur  les  Phrenopath- 
ies,"  vol.  i.,  p.  479.  See  also  Griesinger,  "  Traite 
des  Maladies  Mentales"  (French  translation),  p.  46 ; 
Leubuscher,  "  Zeitschrift  fiir  Psychiatric,"  1847. 

t  Esquirol,  I..  420. 


"  a  gentleman  who  frequently  could  rot 
carry  out  what  he  wished  to  perform. 
Often  on  endeavoring  to  undress  he  was- 
two  hours  before  he  could  get  off  his  coat,, 
all  his  mental  faculties,  volition  excepted, 
being  perfect.  On  one  occasion  having 
ordered  a  glass  of  water,  it  was  presented 
to  him  on  a  tray,  but  he  could  not  take  it,, 
though  anxious  to  do  so  ;  and  he  kept  the 
servant  standing  before  him  half  an  hour, 
when  the  obstruction  was  overcome." 
He  described  his  feelings  to  be  "  as  if  an- 
other person  had  taken  possession  of  his 
will."  * 

Thomas  De  Quincey  describes  this  pa- 
ralysis of  the  will  from  personal  observa- 
tion. His  remarks  are  the  more  valuable 
as  coming  from  a  man  of  subtile  mind  and 
fine  literary  tact.  From  the  effects  of 
long  continued  abuse  of  opium  he  was. 
compelled  to  give  up  the  studies  in  which, 
he  had  been  wont  to  delight.  "  I  shrunlc 
from  them,"  he  writes,  "  with  a  sense  of 
powerlessness  and  infantine  feebleness  the 
greater  from  remembering  the  time  when. 
I  grappled  with  them  [mathematics,  intel- 
lectual philosophy,  etc.]  to  my  own  hourly- 
delight  ;  and  for  this  further  reason,  be- 
cause I  had  devoted  the  labor  of  my  whole 
life  to  — constructing  one  single  work. . . . 
This  was  now  likely  to  stand  a  memorial 
of  hopes  defeated,  of  baffled  efforts,  of 
materials  uselessly  accumulated.  ...  In 
this  state  of  imbecility  I  had  for  amuse- 
ment turned  my  attention  to  political  econ- 
omy." He  speaks  of  "  the  utter  feeble- 
ness of  the  main  herd  of  modern  econo- 
mists "  with  whose  writings  he  had  been 
familiar.  At  length  he  read  Mr.  Ricar- 
do's  book,  and  before  he  had  finished  the 
first  chapter,  wonder  and  curiosity  that 
had  long  been  dead  in  him  were  re-awak- 
ened. Conceiving  however  that  some 
important  truths  had  escaped  even  Ricar- 
do's  eye,  he  drew  up  his  "  Prolegomena 
to  all  Future  Systems  of  Political  Econ- 
omy." Arrangements  were  made  for 
printing  this  work,  and  it  was  even  twice 
advertised.  But  the  author  had  a  preface 
to  write  and  a  dedication  to  Ricardo,  and 
he  found  himself  quite  unable  to  accom- 
plish all  that.  So  the  arrangements  were 
countermanded  and  the  ''  prolegomena  " 
was  not  published.  "  I  have  thus  de- 
scribed and  illustrated  my  intellectual  tor- 
por in  terms  that  apply  more  or  less  to- 
every  part  of  the  four  years  during  which 
I  was  under  the  Circean  spells  of  opium. 
But  for  misery  and  suffering-,  I  might  in- 


uoted  by  Carpenter,  "  Mental  Physiology,"  p_ 
rom  Bennett,  "  The  Mesmeric  Mania  of  1851. '* 


12 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


deed  be  said  to  have  existed  in  a  dormant 
state.  I  seldom  could  prevail  on  myself 
to  write  a  letter ;  an  answer  of  a  few  words 
to  any  that  I  received  was  the  utmost  that 
I  could  accomplish;  and  often  that  not 
until  the  letter  had  lain  weeks  or  even 
months  on  my  writing  table.  Without 
the  aid  of  M.  all  records  of  bills  paid  or 
to  be  paid  must  have  perished,  and  my 
whole  domestic  economy,  whatever  be- 
came of  Political  Economy,  must  have 
.gone  into  irretrievable  confusion.  I  shall 
not  afterward  allude  to  this  part  of  the 
case  ;  it  is  one  however  which  the  opium 
•eater  will  find  in  the  end  as  oppressive 
and  tormenting  as  any  other,  from  the 
sense  of  incapacity  and  feebleness,  from 
the  direct  embarrassments  incident  to  the 
neglect  or  procrastination  of  each  day's 
appropriate  duties,  and  from  the  remorse 
which  must  often  exasperate  the  stings  of 
these  evils  to  a  reflective  and  conscien- 
tious mind.  The  opium  eater  loses  none 
of  his  moral  sensibilities  or  aspirations ; 
he  wishes  and  longs  as  earnestly  as  ever 
to  realize  what  he  believes  possible  and 
feels  to  be  exacted  by  duty  ;  but  his  intel- 
lectual apprehension  of  what  is  possible 
infinitely  outruns  its  power  not  of  exe- 
cution only  but  even  the  power  to  at- 
tempt. He  lies  under  the  weight  of  in- 
cubus and  nightmare  ;  he  lies  in  sight  of 
all  that  he  would  fain  perform,  just  as  a 
man  forcibly  confined  to  his  bed  by  the 
mortal  languor  of  a  relaxing  disease,  who 
is  compelled  to  witness  injury  or  outrage 
offered  to  some  object  of  his  tenderest 
love :  he  curses  the  spells  which  chain 
him  down  from  motion ;  he  would  lay 
down  his  life  if  he  might  but  get  up  and 
walk ;  but  he  is  powerless  as  an  infant 
and  cannot  even  attempt  to  rise."  * 

I  shall  cite  only  one  observation  more. 
It  is  recorded  by  Billod  in  the  "  Annales 
Medico-pathologiques,"  and  exhibits  the 
disease  in  all  its  aspects.  The  patient 
was  a  man  65  years  of  age,  "  of  strong 
constitution,  of  lymphatic  temperament, 
with  a  faculty  specially  developed  for 
business,  and  of  middling  sensibility." 
Being  strongly  attached  to  his  profession 
(he  was  a  notary)  he  hesitated  long  before 
he  decided  to  sell  his  office.  Having 
done  so,  he  fell  into  a  state  of  profound 
melancholy,  refusing  all  food,  deeming 
himself  undone,  and  going  so  far  in  his 
desperation  as  to  attempt  suicide.  In  the 
narrative  which  follows  I  omit  only  a  few 
details  of  purely  medical  interest,  and  per- 


*  "  Confessions  of  an  Opium  Eater,"  Boston  edi- 
tion, 1851,  p.  1 06  ft  seqq. 


mit  the  observer  to  describe  the  case  in 
his  own  words  : 

"  The  faculty  that  seemed  to  us  to  be 
most  notably  affected  was  the  will.  The 
patient  oftentimes  manifests  an  inability 
for  willing  to  perform  certain  acts  although 
he  has  the  wish,  and  although  his  sound 
judgment,  after  prudent  deliberation, 
convinces  him  of  the  fitness  and  often 
even  the  necessity  of  so  acting."  The 
patient  was  at  this  time  confined  in  the 
asylum  at  Ivry,  and  it  was  desired  that 
he  should  go  to  Italy  with  Dr.  Billod. 

"  When  told  that  he  must  soon  leave, '  I 
never  can,'  said  he,  '  yet  I  am  tired  of  this 
place.'  On  the  eve  of  his  departure  he  again 
protested  that  he  never  could  leave.  The 
next  morning  he  rose  at  six  o'clock  to  go  and 
make  the  same  declaration  to  Mr.  M.  Some 
resistance  therefore  was  anticipated,  yet  when 
I  presented  myself  he  made  no  opposition 
whatever,  saying  only,  as  though  he  felt  that 
his  will  was  ready  to  lapse,  'Where  is  the 
coach,  so  I  may  lose  no  time  in  getting  into 
it.'  ' 

"  It  would  be  tiresome  were  we  to  take  the 
reader  with  us  and  exhibit  to  him  all  the  phe- 
nomena presented  by  the  patient  during  this 
tour.  These  phenomena  may  conveniently 
be  represented  by  three  or  four  of  the  princi- 
pal ones  which  I  shall  offer  as  a  sample  of  all 
the  rest.  The  first  presented  itself  at  Mar- 
seilles. The  patient  was  requested,  before 
he  took  ship,  to  execute  a  paper  authorizing 
his  wife  to  sell  a  house.  He  drew  up  the 
document  himself,  made  a  copy  on  stamped 
paper,  and  was  in  the  act  of  signing  his  name 
when  a  difficulty  arose  for  which  we  were 
quite  unprepared.  After  having  written  his 
name,  he  was  utterly  unable  to  make  the 
flourish.  In  vain  he  struggled  to  overcome 
the  difficulty.  A  hundred  times  at  least  he 
went  through  the  requisite  movements  with 
his  hand  raised  above  the  paper — proving 
that  the  obstacle  was  not  in  the  hand  ;  a  hun- 
dred times  the  will  was  unable  to  command 
the  fingers  to  bring  the  pen  down  to  the  pa- 
per. Mr.  P.  was  in  an  agony.  He  would 
rise  from  the  desk  with  impatience,  and  stamp 
on  the  floor :  then  he  would  sit  down  again 
and  try  once  more.  Still  he  could  not  bring 
the  pen  to  the  paper.  Will  any  one  deny 
Mr.  P.'s  strong  desire  of  completing  his  sig- 
nature or  assert  that  he  does  not  understand 
the  importance  of  the  act  ?  Will  any  one 
question  the  soundness  of  the  organ  that  has 
to  execute  the  flourish  ?  The  agent  (the  hand) 
seems  to  be  as  free  from  defect  as  the  legal 
instrument,  but  the  former  cannot  apply  it 
self  to  the  latter.  Plainly  the  will  is  at  fault. 
This  struggle  lasted  three  quarters  of  an  hour. 
At  last  the  effort  had  some  result,  after  I  had 
given  up  all  expectation  of  any.  The  flour- 
ish was  very  imperfect,  but  it  was  executed. 
I  was  an  eye  witness  of  this  struggle,  taking 
the  liveliest  interest  in  it,  and  I  declare  thaf 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


it  was  impossible  to  give  more  manifest  proof 
of  the  impossibility  of  willing,  in  spite  of  the 
desire.* 

"  A  few  days  later  I  observed  another  in- 
stance of  disability  of  a  kindred  nature.  It 
was  proposed  to  go  out  for  a  little  while 
after  dinner.  Mr.  P.  wished  very  much  to  do 
so,  desiring,  as  he  told  me,  to  get  some  idea 
of  the  appearance  of  the  city.  For  five  days 
in  succession,  he  took  his  hat,  arose  from 
table,  and  got  ready  to  go  out.  Vain  hope ! 
His  will  could  not  command  his  legs  to  put 
themselves  in  motion,  and  carry  him  into  the 
street.  'Evidently  I  am  my  own  prisoner,' 
he  would  say  ;  '  it  is  not  you  that  prevent  me 
from  going  out,  nor  is  it  my  legs  that  refuse  ; 
then  what  is  it  ? '  Thus  would  Mr.  P.  com- 
plain of  his  not  being  able  to  will,  much  as  he 
wished  it.  At  last,  after  five  days,  he  made 
a  final  effort,  and  succeeded  in  getting  out  of 
doors,  but  five  minutes  later  he  came  back 
perspiring  and  out  of  breath,  as  though  he 
had  run  a  distance  of  several  kilometers,  and 
much  astonished  himself  at  what  he  had  just 
done. 

"  Instances  of  such  inability  were  occurring 
every  moment.  If  the  patient  longed  to  go 
to  the  theater,  he  could  not  will  to  go.  If  at 
table  with  agreeable  company  he  wished  to 
take  part  in  the  conversation,  the  same  inabil- 
ity was  experienced.  True,  oftentimes  this 
lack  of  force  existed,  so  to  speak,  in  appre- 
hension only :  the  patient  feared  lest  he 
should  not  be  able,  and  yet  he  succeeded  in 
more  instances  than  he  failed  :  often  however, 
it  must  be  admitted,  his  apprehensions  were 
justified." 

After  passing  six  days  at  Marseilles, 
patient  and  physician  took  ship  for  Naples, 
"  though  not  without  the  utmost  difficul- 
ty." During  these  six  days 

"  the  patient  formally  expressed  his  disincli- 
nation to  embark,  and  his  desire  of  going  back 
to  Paris,  dreading  in  advance  the  thought  of 
finding  himself  ,  with  his  diseased  will,  in  a 
strange  country,  and  declaring  that  he  would 
have  to  be  taken  on  board  in  irons.  On  the 
day  appointed  for  sailing,  he  made  up  his 
mind  to  leave  the  hotel  only  when  he  believed 
that  I  was  about  to  resort  to  force.  Once 
outside  the  door,  he  stopped  on  the  street, 
and  there  no  doubt  would  have  remained, 
were  it  not  for  the  intervention  of  some 
sailors,  and  they  had  only  to  show  them- 
selves. 

"  Another  circumstance  goes  to  show  still 
further  the  lesion  of  the  will.  We  reached 
Rome  on  the  day  of  Pius  the  Ninth's  election. 
'  This  is  a  fortunate  circumstance,  I  should 
say,'  he  remarked,  '  were  I  not  ill.  I  wish  I 
could  assist  at  the  coronation,  but  I  do  not 


*  Je  declare  qu1  il  4ta.it  impossible  de  constater 
plus  manifestement  une  impossibilite  de  vouloir, 
malgre'  it  desir.  I  transcribe  this  observation  lit- 
erally, without  any  reflection  upon  the  author's 
psycholop-ical  doctrine.  (Author's  note.) 


know  that  I  can.  I  shall  try.'  On  the  morn- 
ing of  the  day  he  arose  at  five  o'clock,  shaved, 
took  out  his  black  coat,  etc.,  and  said  to  me, 
'  You  see  I  am  doing  a  good  deal ;  I  do  not 
yet  know  whether  I  shall  be  able  to  go.' 
At  last,  when  the  hour  for  the  ceremony  was- 
come,  he  made  a  great  effort,  and  with  much 
ado  succeeded  in  going  down  stairs.  Ten 
days  afterward,  on  the  feast  of  St.  Peter,  after 
making  the  like  preparations,  and  the  same 
efforts,  no  result  was  reached.  '  You  see,'  he 
said,  '  I  am  still  my  own  prisoner.  It  is  not 
the  wish  that  is  wanting  seeing  that  I  have 
been  getting  ready  for  the  last  three  hours. 
Here  I  am  dressed,  shaven  and  gloved,  yet  I 
cannot  budge  from  here.'  In  short  it  was  im- 

Eossible  for  him  to  attend  the  ceremony.    I 
ad  used  a  good  deal  of  urgency,  but  judged 
that  I  must  not  force  him. 

"  I  will  conclude  this  narrative,  already  too- 
long,  with  one  observation.  It  is  that  the 
instinctive  movements — those  which  are  not 
subject  to  the  will  proper — were  not  affected 
in  this  patient  like  those  which  may  be  called 
the  ordinated  movements.  Thus,  on  arriving 
at  Lyons,  upon  our  return  journey,  our  coach 
ran  over  a  woman  that  the  horses  had  thrown 
down :  my  patient  regained  all  his  energy,  and 
not  waiting  for  the  vehicle  to  stop,  threw  off 
his  cloak,  opened  the  door,  and  was  the  first 
to  descend  and  offer  assistance  to  the  woman.'* 

The  author  adds  that  the  voyage  had 
not  the  good  effect  he  had  anticipated  ; 
that  the  patient  however  felt  better  when 
riding  in  a  carriage,  especially  in  a  jolting 
vehicle  over  a  rough  road ;  and  thus  he 
went  home  to  his  family  in  about  the  same 
state.* 

The  cases  just  cited  represent  a  very 
definite  group.  From  them  we  gather 
some  very  pr-cise  facts,  and  a  few  highly 
probable  inferences.  And  first  let  us  con- 
sider the  facts. 

1.  The  muscular  system  and  the  organs 
of  movement   remain   intact :  they  offer 
no  impediment.     The  automatic  activity 
which  constitutes  the  ordinary  routine  of 
life  persists. 

2.  The  intelligence  is  intact — at   least 
there  is  nothing  that  would  warrant  us  in 
saying  that  it  has  suffered  in  the  least. 
Ends  are  clearly  apprehended,  means  like- 
wise, but  to  pass  to  action  is  impossible. 

Here  then  we  have  a  disease  of  the  will 
in  the  strictest  sense.  And  we  may  re- 
mark that  disease  makes  for  our  behoof 
a  curious  experiment.  It  creates  excep- 
tional conditions,  such  as  can  be  produced 
in  no  other  way :  it  makes  two  halves  of 
the  man,  utterly  extinguishing  all  power 
of  individual  reaction,  but  leaving  intact 
all  else  ;  it  produces  for  us,  so  far  as  the 


*  "  Annales  M&lico-Psychologiques,"  vol.  x. 


14. 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


cthing  is  possible,  a  being  reduced  to  pure 
.intelligence. 

Whence  comes  this  impotence  of  will  ? 
Here  the  inductions  begin.  As  to  its  im- 
mediate cause  two  hypotheses  only  are 
possible :  it  consists  of  an  impairment 
either  of  the  motor  centers  or  of  the  in- 
citements they  receive. 

The  first  hypothesis  has  no  valid  reason 
to  rest  on.*  At  least  we  know  too  little 
about  this  matter  to  warrant  even  con- 
jecture. •  . 

The  second  hypothesis  remains.  Ex- 
perience confirms  it.  Esquirol  has  pre- 
served for  us  the  remarkable  answer  made 
to  him  by  a  patient  who  had  been  cured  : 
•"  This  lack  of  activity  was  owing  to  the 
fact  that  my  sensations  were  too  faint  to 
exert  any  influence  on  my  will."  The 
same  author  has  also  noted  the  profound 
change  such  patients  experience  in  their 
general  sense  of  existence  (coenaesthesia). 
"  My  existence  is  incomplete,"  writes  one 
of  his  patients  to  him.  "  The  functions, 
the  power  of  performing  the  ordinary  acts 
of  life,  remain  with  me  :  but  in  the  per- 
formance of  them  there  is  always  some- 
thing wanting,  to  wit,  the  sensation  proper 
to  each  and  the  pleasure  that  follows  them. 
Each  one  of  my  senses,  each  part  of  my- 
self is,  so  to  speak,  separated  from  me, 
nor  can  it  now  procure  for  me  any  sen- 
sation." No  psychologist  could  better 
define  the  point  at  which  the  affective  life 
of  the  patient  was  impaired. 

Billod  relates  the  case  of  a  young  Ital- 
ian woman  "  of  brilliant  education  "  who 
•became  insane  from  having  been  crossed 
in  love ;  she  recovered,  but  afterward  fell 
into  a  profound  apathy.  "  She  reasons 
soundly  on  every  subject,  but  no  longer 
has  any  power  of  will  or  of  love  ;  no  con- 
sciousness of  what  happens  to  her,  of  what 
she  feels  or  of  what  she  does.  She  says 
she  is  as  one  that  is  neither  dead  nor  alive  ; 
like  one  living  in  continual  sleep,  to  whom 
objects  appear  as  though  wrapt  in  a  cloud, 
to  whom  persons  seem  to  move  like  shad- 
ows, and  words  to  come  from  a  world  far 
away."t 

If,  as  we  shall  see  later,  the  voluntary 
act  is  made  up  of  two  distinct  elements, 
viz.,  a  state  of  consciousness  totally  inca- 
pable either  of  producing  action  or  pro- 
hibiting it,  and  organic  states  which  alone 
have  this  power,  then  it  must  be  admitted 
that  the  two  elements,  though  usually  they 


*  It  must  be  remembered  that  we  are  speaking 
not  of  the  motor  organs,  but  of  the  centers,  what- 
ever opinion  may  be  held  as  to  their  nature  and  their 
•localization. 

+  "  Annales  Meclico-Psychologiques,"  ubi  supra. 


are  simultaneous,  as  being  the  effects 
of  one  same  cause,  are  here  dissociated. 
The  inability  to  act  is  a  fact.  But  the  in- 
tensity of  the  state  of  consciousness,  which 
intensity  is  clearly  intermittent — is  that  a 
fact  ?  If  so,  then  we  must  say  that  the 
requisite  conditions  are  present  here,  but 
only  so  far  as  this  element  is  concerned. 
But  is  this  intensity  of  consciousness  an 
illusion  ?  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  it 
is.  The  strong  desire  to  act  that  some  of 
the  patients  suppose  themselves  to  have 
seems  to  me  to  be  simply  an  illusion  of 
consciousness.  The  intensity  of  a  wish 
is  something  entirely  relative.  The  pa- 
tient being  in  a  state  of  general  apathy, 
an  impulse  that  to  him  appears  to  be  strong 
is  in  fact  below  the  average  :  hence  inac- 
tion. When  we  come  to  study  the  state 
of  the  will  in  somnambulism  we  shall  see 
that  though  some  patients  firmly  believe 
their  acts  while  in  that  state  to  be  con- 
trollable by  their  will,  experience  at  last 
compels  them  to  admit  that  this  judgment 
is  erroneous  and  that  their  consciousness 
deludes  them  completely.* 

When  however  an  excitation  happens 
to  be  very  strong,  sudden,  unexpected, 
that  is  when  it  combines  all  the  conditions 
of  intensity,  then  in  most  cases  it  serves 
as  an  impulse  to  action,  as  in  the  case  of 
the  patient  who  recovered  his  energy  to 
save  a  woman  from  being  run  over.f 
Every  one  can  realize  for  himself  this  state 
of  aboulia,  for  there  is  no  one  but  has  had 
his  hours  of  weakness  when  all  incite- 
ments, whether  inward  or  outward,  all 
sensations  and  all  ideas  have  been  inef- 
fective, leaving  him  impassive.  Between 
this  state  and  aboulia  there  is  only  a  quan- 
titative difference — the  difference  between 
a  transient  and  a  chronic  state. 

If  these  patients  are  unable  to  will  the 
reason  is  that  however  many  projects  they 
may  conceive,  only  a  feeble  desire  to  act 
is  awakened.  I  employ  these  terms  in 
order  to  conform  myself  to  the  current 
phraseology,  still  it  is  not  the  weakness 
of  the  desire,  as  a  simple  state  of  con- 
sciousness, that  produces  inaction.  To 
infer  that  it  is,  is  to  reason  from  mere  ap- 
pearances. As  we  have  already  shown, 
every  nervous  state — every  sensation, 
every  idea — is  allthe  more  surely  trans- 
lated into  movement,  as  it  is  accompanied 
by  those  other  nervous  states,  whatever 
they  may  be,  which  correspond  to  feeling 
and  sentiment.  It  is  from  the  weakness 


*  See  Chapter  VI.,  infra. 

t  I  learn  from  Dr.  Billod  that  this  patient  regained 
his  activity,  in  consequence  of  the  events  of  June, 
1848,  and  the  emotions  they  excited  in  him. 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


15 


•of  these  states  that  aboulia  results,  and 
not  from  weakness  of  desire,  which  is  only 
a  sign. 

The  cause  therefore  is  a  comparative 
insensibility,  a  general  impairment  of  sen- 
sibility :  that  which  is  impaired  is  the  af- 
fective life,  the  emotional  faculty.  But 
whence  comes  this  morbid  state?  The 
-question  is  purely  a  physiological  one! 
Indisputably  there  exists  in  these  patients  a 
notable  depression  of  the  vital  activities  ; 
and  this  may  attain  to  such  a  degree  as  to 
involve  all  the  faculties,  so  that  the  indi- 
vidual becomes  like  some  inanimate  thing. 
Physicians  call  this  state  melancholia, 
lypemania,  stupor,  and  its  symptoms  are  a 
slowing  of  the  circulation,  a  lowering  of 
the  temperature  of  the  body,  and  an  al- 
most absolute  immobility.  These  extreme 
iorms  do  not  belong  to  our  theme,  but 
they  exhibit  to  us  the  ultimate  causes  of 
impotence  of  the  will.  Every  depression 
in  the  vital  tone,  be  it  slight  or  be  it  grave, 
transient  or  lasting,  has  its  effect.  So 
little  is  the  will  like  a  faculty  controlling 
as  a  master,  that  it  depends  momentarily 
upon  the  most  trivial  causes :  it  is  at  their 
mercy.  And  yet,  inasmuch  as  it  has  its 
source  in  biological  actions  that  take  place 
in  our  inmost  tissues,  we  see  how  truly  it 
is  said  to  be  our  very  self. 

The  second  group  is  like  the  first  in  its 
effects  (impairment  of  the  will)  and  in  its 
•causes  (depressive  influences).  The  only 
difference  is  that  the  incitement  to  act  is 
not  suppressed.  The  first  group  presents 
positive  causes  of  inaction ;  the  second, 
negative  causes.  Inhibition  results  here 
from  an  antagonism. 

In  all  the  cases  now  to  be  mentioned 
the  impairment  of  the  will  springs  from  a 
sense  of  fear,  based  on  no  rational  ground, 
and  varying  from  simple  anxiety  to  an- 
guish and  paralyzing  terror.  In  some  in- 
stances the  intelligence  appears  to  be  intact, 
in  others  impaired.  Again,  some  of  these 
cases  are  of  an  indefinite  character,  and  it 
is  difficult  to  say  whether  they  indicate  a 
disease  of  the  will  alone.* 

The  following  case  shows  the  transition 
from  one  group  to  the  other ;  in  fact  it 
belongs  to  both.  "  A  man  of  30  years 
found  himself  involved  in  certain  civic 
tumults  which  frightened  him  greatly. 
Thereafter,  though  he  retained  perfectly 
his  mental  balance,  managing  his  private 


*  Here  it  is  well  to  remark  once  for  all  that,  as 
we  are  studying  the  diseases  special  to  the  will,  we 
have  had  to  eliminate  all  cases  where  the  psychic 
activity  is  affected  as  a  whole,  and  those  in  which 
affections  of  the  will  are  only  the  effect  and  the  ex- 
pression of  intellectual  insanity. 


affairs  very  well  and  carrying  on  a  large 
business,  he  wou'd  not  remain  alone  either 
on  the  street  or  in  his  chamber,  but  was 
always  accompanied.  If  he  went  out,  it 
was  impossible  for  him  to  return  home 
alone.  Whenever  he  went  out  unattend- 
ed, which  he  rarely  did,  he  would  soon 
halt  on  the  street,  and  there  remain  in- 
definitely, neither  going  on  nor  turning 
back,  unless  some  one  led  him.  He 
seemed  to  have  a  will,  but  it  was  the  will 
of  those  around  him.  Whenever  the  at- 
tempt was  made  to  overcome  this  resist- 
ance of  the  patient,  he  would  fall  into  a 
swoon."* 

Several  alienists  have  recently  described 
under  the  names  of  "  peur  des  espaces," 
"  Platzangst,"  and  agoraphobia,  a  curious 
sort  of  anxiety  that  paralyzes  the  will,  and 
against  which  the  individual  is  powerless 
to  react,  or  at  least  does  so  only  in  a 
roundabout  way.  A  case  observed  by 
Westphal  may  serve  as  a  type.  A  trav- 
eler of  strong5  constitution,  perfectly  sound 
of  mind  and  presenting  no  disorder  of 
the  motor  faculty,  is  suddenly  seized  with 
a  feeling  of  alarm  at  the  sight  of  an  open 
space — as  a  public  square — of  some  little 
size.  If  he  must  cross  one  of  the  great 
squares  of  Berlin,  he  fancies  the  distance 
to  be  several  miles  and  despairs  of  ever 
reaching  the  other  side.  This  feeling 
grows  less  or  disappears  if  he  goes  around 
the  square,  following  the  line  of  houses, 
also  if  he  has  some  person  with  him,  or 
even  if  he  supports  himself  on  a  walking 
cane.  Carpenter  t  quotes  from  Bennett 
a  case  of  "  paralysis  of  the  will  "  which 
seems  to  me  to  belong  to  the  same  class. 
"If  when  walking  in  the  street  this  indi- 
vidual [a  patient  of  Dr.  Bennett's]  came 
to  a  gap  in  the  line  of  houses,  his  will 
suddenly  became  inoperative  and  he  could 
not  proceed.  An  unbuilt-on  space  in  the 
street  was  sure  to  stop  him.  Crossing  a 
street  also  was  very  difficult,  and  on  go- 
ing in  or  out  of  a  door  he  was  always  ar- 
rested for  some  minutes." 

Again,  some  persons  while  walking  in 
the  open  country  are  more  or  less  un- 
easy unless  they  keep  close  to  the  hedges 
or  to  the  trees.  Many  other  illustrations 
might  be  given,  but  that  is  needless,  for 
they  would  add  nothing  to  the  fundamen- 
tal fact.J 


*  Billed,  loc.  cit.,  p.  191. 

t  Op.  cit.,  p.  385. 

t  For  further  details  see  Westphal,  "  Archiv  fur 
Psychiatric,"  vol.  iii.  (two  articles);  Cordes,  ibi- 
dem; Legrand  du  Saulle,  "  Annales  Medico-psy- 
chologiques  "  (1876),  p.  405  ;  Ritti,  "  Dictionnaire 
Encyclopedique  des  Sciences  Medicates,"  art.  FOLIB 
AVEC  CONSCIENCE  ;  Maudsley,  "  Pathology  of  Mind." 


16 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


Tne  medical  discussions  of  this  morbid 
state  do  not  concern  us  here.  The  psy- 
chological fact  is  reducible  to  a  sense  of 
fea.r,  and  that  this  fear  is  puerile  and  im- 
aginary as  regards  its  causes  makes  no 
difference  for  us  :  we  have  to  do  only  with 
its  effect,  which  is  to  disable  the  will. 
But  we  must  inquire  whether  this  depress- 
ive influence  only  arrests  the  will-impulse, 
the  latter  being  in  itself  intact,  or  whether 
the  power  of  individual  reaction  also  is 
weakened.  The  latter  hypothesis  is  well 
grounded  for,  the  sense  of  fear  not  being 
insurmountable — as  these  patients  prove 
in  some  instances — we  must  infer  that  the 
individual's  power  of  reaction  is  fallen  be- 
low the  general  level.  Hence  the  arrest 
of  volition  results  from  two  causes  acting 
in  the  same  direction. 

Unfortunately  we  are  ignorant  of  the 
physiological  conditions  of  this  impair- 
ment. Many  are  the  conjectures  that 
have  been  made.  Cordes»  himself  subject 
to  this  infirmity,  regards  it  as  "  a  function- 
al paralysis  symptomatic  of  certain  modi- 
fications of  the  motor  centers,  and  capable 
of  producing  upon  us  impressions,  in  par- 
ticular an  impression  of  fear,  which  gives 
rise  to  a  momentary  paralysis  ;  this  effect 
is  almost  nothing  if  the  imagination  alone 
is  in  play,  but  it  is  carried  to  a  very  high 
degree  by  the  operation  of  the  accompa- 
nying circumstances."  According  to  Cor- 
des,  then,  the  primary  cause  is  "  a  paresic 
exhaustion  of  the  motor  nervous  system, 
of  that  portion  of  the  brain  which  governs 
not  only  locomotion  but  muscular  sensi- 
bility also." 

This  explanation,  were  it  firmly  estab- 
lished, would  be  of  great  consequence 
for  our  research.  It  would  show  that  the 
impotence  of  the  will  depends  on  an  im- 
potence of  the  nerve  centers — and  this 
would  have  the  advantage  of  supplying  to 
our  inquiries  an  assured  basis  in  physiolo- 
gy. But  it  would  be  premature  to  draw 
here  conclusions  that  will  come  in  more 
fitly  at  the  end  of  our  work. 

I  shall  have  little  to  say  of  the  mental 
state  denominated  "griibelsucht."  It  rep- 
resents the  pathological  .form  of  irresolu- 
tion of  character,  just  as  aboulia  repre- 
sents that  of  the  apathetic  character.  It 
consists  of  a  state  of  continual  hesitation, 
for  the  most  frivolous  reasons,  with  ina- 
bility to  reach  any  definitive  results. 
This  hesitation  is  seen  at  first  in  the 
purely  intellectual  order.  The  patient 
keeps  asking  himself  questions  continu- 
ally. I  take  an  illustration  from  Legrand 
du  Saulle.  "  A  very  intelligent  woman 
could  not  go  into  the  street  but  she  would 


be  asking  herself,  '  Is  some  one  going  to 
jump  out  of  a  window  and  fall  at  my  feet  ? 
Will  it  be  a  man  or  a  woman  ?  Will  the 
person  be  wounded  or  killed  ?  If  wound- 
ed, will  it  be  in  the  head  or  the  legs  ? 
Will  there  be  blood  on  the  pavement  ? 
Shall  I  call  for  assistance,  or  run  away, 
or  recite  a  prayer  ?  Shall  I  be  accused  of 
being  the  cause  of  this  occurrence  ?  Will 
my  innocence  be  admitted?'  and  so  on. 
These  questionings  go  on  without  end. 
Several  cases  of  a  like  nature  are  record- 
ed in  special  treatises."  * 

If  it  involved  only  this  "  psychological 
rumination," — to  use  Mr.  du  Saulle 's  ex- 
pression— we  should  have  nothing  to  say 
about  this  morbid  state  ;  but  the  perplex- 
ity of  the  mind  expresses  itself  in  acts. 
The  patient  durst  not  attempt  anything- 
without  endless  precautions.  If  he  has 
written  a  letter,  he  reads  it  over  and  over 
again,  for  fear  he  should  have  forgotten  a 
word  or  committed  some  fault  of  spell- 
ing. If  he  locks  a  drawer,  he  must  make 
sure  again  and  again  that  it  was  done 
aright.  It  is  the  same  as  to  his  dwelling  : 
he  has  to  satisfy  himself  repeatedly  as  to 
the  doors  being  locked,  the  keys  in  his 
pocket,  the  state  of  his  pocket,  etc. 

In  a  graver  form  of  the  malady  the  pa- 
tient, haunted  by  ridiculous  abhorrence 
of  contact  with  anything  dirty  or  unclean, 
will  not  touch  a  piece  of  money,  a  door 
knob,  a  window  fastening  or  the  like  ;  and 
he  lives  in  a  state  of  constant  apprehen- 
sion. Such  was  the  cathedral  beadle 
mentioned  by  Morel,  who,  worried  for 
twenty-five  years  by  absurd  fancies, 
feared  to  touch  his  staff  ;  the  man  would 
reason  with  himself,  and  rail  at  himself 
till  his  apprehensions  were  counteracted, 
yet  he  always  was  afraid  that  the  next 
time  he  should  not  succeed.f 

This  malady  of  the  will  results  in  part 
from  weakness  of  character,  in  part 
from  the  state  of  the  intelligence.  It  is 
quite  natural  that  this  current  of  vain  im- 
aginings should  find  expression  in  frivo- 
lous acts  ;  but  the  impotence  of  the  indi- 
vidual reaction  plays  an  important  part. 
We  find  also  a  lowering  of  the  general 
tone,  and  the  proof  of  this  is  seen  in  the 
causes  of  this  morbid  state,  namely  hered- 
itary neuropathy  and  debilitating  mala- 
dies ;  also  in  the  crises  and  the  syncope 
brought  on  by  the  effort  to  act ;  so  too  in 
those  extreme  forms  of  the  disease  where 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


17 


the  patient,  harassed  by  his  unceasing 
apprehensions,  will  neither  write,  nor 
listen,  nor  speak,  but  keeps  muttering  to 
himself,  or  perhaps  only  moving  his  lips. 

Finally  let  us  '  notice  those  cases  in 
which  the  impairment  of  the  will  ap- 
proaches extinction.  When  a  persistent 
state  of  consciousness  is  accompanied  by 
an  intense  feeling  of  terror,  there  is  pro- 
duced an  almost  absolute  inhibition,  and 
the  patient  seems  stupid  without  really 
being  so.  Such  was  the  case  with  the 
young  man  mentioned  by  Esquirol,  who 
appeared  to  be  idiotic,  who  had  to  be 
dressed,  put  to  bed,  fed  like  a  child,  and 
who  after  his  recovery  declared  that  an 
inward  voice  used  to  say  t6  him,  "  Do  not 
budge,  or  you  are  dead."  * 

Guislain  also  reports  a  curious  case, 
but  in  this  instance  the  lack  of  psycholog- 
ical data  leaves  us  in  a  quandary  and  no 
positive  explanation  can  be  offered.  "  A 
young  lady,  courted  by  a  young  man,  was 
seized  with  an  alienation  of  mind  the  true 
cause  of  which  was  unknown,  but  its  dis- 
tinctive feature  was  a  strong  aversion  to 
society,  which  soon  was  transformed  into 
a  morbid  mutism.  During  twelve  years 
she  made  answer  to  questions  only  twice, 
the  first  time  under  the  influence  of  her 
father's  imperative  words,  and  the  second 
time  on  her  being  committed  to  an  asy- 
lum. "On  both  occasions  she  was 
strangely,  surprisingly  laconic." 

For  two  months  Guislain  made  re- 
peated efforts  to  effect  a  cure.  But  "  my 
efforts  were  vain,  and  my  exhortations 
without  effect.  I  persisted,  and  before 
long  noted  a  change  in  her  features,  and 
a  more  intelligent  expression  in  her  eyes. 
Shortly  afterward,  from  time  to  time,  she 
would  utter  sentences,  expressing  her 
thoughts  clearly,  but  this  was  at  long  in- 
tervals, for  she  manifested  extreme  repug- 
nance to  comply  with  my  requests.  It 
was  evident  that  her  self-love  was  each 
time  gratified  by  the  victory  she  gained 
over  herself.  In  her  answers  it  was  im- 
possible to  detect  the  slightest  sign  of  dis- 
ordered intellect :  her  insanity  was  purely 
a  disease  of  the  impulsive  will.  Often- 
times a  sort  of  bashfulness  seemed  to 
restrain  this  patient,  whom  I  was  begin- 
ning to  regard  as  convalescent.  For  two 
or  three  days  she  ceased  to  speak,  and 
then,  yielding  to  renewed  solicitations, 
she  recovered  speech  again,  till  finally  she 
took  part  of  her  own  accord  in  the  conver- 
sation going  on  in  her  hearing.  .  .  .  This 
recovery  is  one  of  the  most  surprising  in- 

*  Esquirol,  vol.  ii.,  p.  287. 


stances  of  cure  that  have  come  under  my 
observation."  The  author  adds  that  res- 
toration was  complete  and  permanent. 

This  state  of  morbid  inertia,  of  which 
aboulia  is  the  type,  where  the  "I  will "  is 
never  followed  by  action,  shows  volition,  as 
a  state  of  consciousness,  and  the  effective 
power  of  acting  to  be  two  distinct  things. 
Not  to  dwell  on  this  point  at  present,  let 
us  direct  our  attention  to  this  fact  of  effort 
— a  vital  point  in  the  psychology  of  the 
will,  and  which  is  lacking  here. 

The  feeling  of  muscular  effort  has  been 
studied  so  thoroughly  and  so  minutely  by 
Dr.  William  James  *  that  there  is  no  need 
of  going  over  the  ground  again ;  it  will 
suffice  to  recall  his  conclusions.  That 
physiologist  has  shown  that  the  sense  of 
the  muscular  force  expended  in  the  per- 
formance of  an  act  is  a  complex  afferent 
sensation  coming  from  the  contracted 
muscles,  the  tense  ligaments,  the  com- 
pressed articulations,  the  shut  glottis,  etc. 
Be  considers  in  detail,  taking  his  stand 
upon  the  results  of  experiment,  the  opin- 
ion which  holds  it  to  be  an  efferent  sensa- 
tion connected  with  the  motor  discharge 
and  coincident  with  the  outgoing  current 
of  nervous  energy.  In  particular  he  has 
shown,  after  Ferrier  and  other  writers,  that 
if  in  case  of  paralysis  the  patient  retains 
the  feeling  of  effort  though  quite  unable 
to  move  the  paralyzed  member,  the  reason 
is  because  the  conditions  of  the  conscious- 
ness of  effort  persist,  the  patient  moving 
the  opposite  member  or  organ. 

But  Dr.  James  justly  distinguishes 
the  muscular  from  the  •volitional  effort 
which  in  many  cases  either  involves  no 
immediate  movement  at  all,  or  only  an 
exceedingly  weak  muscular  energy.  This 
we  see  in  the  case  of  the  man  who,  after 
long  hesitation,  decides  to  put  arsenic  in- 
to his  wife's  glass  to  poison  her :  and 
every  one  is  familiar  through  personal  ex- 
perience with  this  state  of  mental  struggle 
in  which  the  effort  is  all  internal.  But 
here  we  part  regretfully  with  this  author 
who  locates  this  effort  in  a  region  apart 
and  supersensible.  To  us  it  seems  to  dif- 
fer from  muscular  effort  only  in  this  one 
point :  its  physiological  conditions  are  ill 
understood,  and  we  can  offer  only  hypoth- 
eses. 

There  are  two  types  of  this  volitional  ef- 
fort, of  which  the  one  consists  in  arresting 
the  instinctive,  the  passional,  the  habitual 
movements,  the  other  in  overcoming  lan- 
guor, torpor,  timidity.  The  one  is  an  ef- 
fort with  a  negative  and  the  other  an  ef- 


*  "The  Feeling  of  Effort,"  Boston,  1880 


18 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


fort  with  a  positive  result :  the  one  pro- 
duces inhibition  the  other  impulsion. 
These  two  types  may  themselves  be  re- 
duced to  one  formula :  there  is  effort  when 
the  volition  follows  the  line  of  greatest 
resistance.  This  volitional  effort  never 
takes  place  when  the  impulsion  (or  the  in- 
hibition) and  the  choice  coincide,  when 
our  natural  tendencies  and  the  "  I  will  " 
go  in  the  same  direction  :  in  simpler  lan- 
guage, when  that  which  is  immediately 
agreeable  to  the  individual  and  that  which 
is  chosen  by  him  are  the  same.  It  always 
takes  place  when  two  groups  of  antago- 
nistic tendencies  are  struggling  to  sup- 
plant each  other.  As  every  one  knows, 
this  struggle  takes  place  between  the 
lower  tendencies,  whose  adaptation  is  re- 
stricted, and  the  higher  tendencies,  whose 
adaptation  is  manifold.  The  former  are 
always  by  nature  the  stronger ;  the  latter 
are  sometimes  the  stronger  on  account  of 
adventitious  circumstances.  Again,  the 
former  represent  a  force  enregistered  in 
the  organism ;  the  latter  a  recent  acquisi- 
tion. 

How  comes  it  then  that  these  naturally 
weaker  tendencies  prevail  ?  It  is  because 
the  "  I  will "  is  an  element  in  their  favor — 
this,  of  course,  not  inasmuch  as  it  is  a 
mere  state  of  consciousness,  but  because 
underneath  this  volition  there  exist  the 
causes  known,  half-known,  or  unknown 
which  we  have  often  designated  by  the 
term  individual  character.  These  minor 
active  causes,  which  constitute  the  individ- 
ual physically  and  psychically,  are  not 
mere  abstractions  :  they  are  physiological 
or  psychophysiological  processes ;  they 
presuppose  work  done  in  the  several  ner- 
vous centers.  Is  it  rash  to  maintain  that 
the  feeling  of  volitional  effort  too  is  an 
effect  of  these  physiological  processes? 
The  only  objection  that  can  be  urged  is 
our  inability  to  determine  its  mechanism. 
This  point  is  all  the  more  obscure  because 
the  mechanism  must  be  different  accord- 
ing as  the  effect  to  be  produced  is  an  im- 
pulsion or  an  inhibition ;  so  too  the  feeling 
of  volitional  effort  is  not  the  same  in  the 
two  cases. 

The  inward  struggle  is  accompanied  by 
a  sense  of  fatigue  often  intense.  Though 
we  know  but  little  about  the  nature  and 
the  causes  of  this  state,  it  is  generally 
supposed  that  even  in  muscular  effort  the 
seat  of  fatigue  is  in  the  nerve  centers  that 
call  forth  the  contraction,  not  in  the  mus- 
cles :  that  there  is  nervous  exhaustion, 
not  muscular.  In  reflex  contractions  no 
fatigue  is  felt.  Among  subjects  of  hyste- 
ria contractions  are  seen  to  persist  indefi- 


nitely, and  yet  the  patient  has  no  sense  of 
assitude  ;  hence  it  is  the  voluntary  effort 
that  causes  fatigue  and  not  the  contrac- 
tion of  muscle.* 

Apart  from  our  ignorance,  we  have  no 
reason  to  attribute  to  the  volitional  effort 
a  peculiar  character.  Are  the  nerve  ele- 
ments capable  of  furnishing  a  surplus  of 
>vork  for  a  given  period  in  all  cases  where 
this  volitional  effort  comes  into  play  ?  Or, 
on  the  contrary,  are  they,  owing  to  their 
nature  or  for  the  want  of  training  and  ex- 
ercise, quickly  exhausted  and  incapable 
of  acquiring  fresh  strength  ?  Have  they 
or  have  they  not  a  sufficiency  of  available 
force  stored  up  ?  The  problem  of  action 
in  the  direction  of  greatest  resistance  is 
reduced  to  its  ultimate  terms.  It  is  this 
hidden,  almost  unsuspected  work  that 
makes  itself  known  through  the  feeling  of 
volitional  effort.  Hence  the  feeling  of  ef- 
fort in  all  its  forms  is  a  subjective  state 
corresponding  to  certain  processes  going 
on  in  the  nerve  centres  and  in  other  por- 
tions of  the  organism,  but  differing  from 
them  even  as  the  sensation  of  light  or  of 
sound  differ  from  their  objective  causes. 
To  be  capable  of  great  muscular  effort, 
the  appropriate  nerve  centers  must  be  able 
to  produce  a  good  deal  of  work  for  a  pro- 
longed period,  and  this  depends  on  their 
constitution  and  on  the  rapidity  with  which 
they  repair  losses.  So  too,  to  produce  a 
great  moral  or  intellectual  effort,  the  ap- 
propriate nerve  centers,  whatever  they 
may  be  (and  our  ignorance  touching  this 
point  is  nearly  total),  must  be  able  to  pro- 
duce intense  work  over  and  over  again, 
and  must  not  be  quickly  exhausted  and 
slow  to  repair  losses.  The  capacity  for 
effort  is  therefore  in  the  last  analysis  a 
natural  gift. 

To  make  our  meaning  clearer  take  the 
case  of  a  vicious  character.  Suppose  that 
never  in  his  life,  whether  spontaneously 
or  under  the  influence  of  others,  he  has 
experienced  any  faint  desire  of  amend- 
ment :  the  reason  is,  because  he  entire- 
ly lacks  the  moral  elements  and  their 
corresponding  physiological  conditions. 
Should  the  thought  of  amendment  by  any 
chance  occur  to  him,  it  is  to  be  remarked 
in  the  first  place  that  this  occurrence  is  no 
act  of  the  will,  though  it  supposes  the  pre- 
existence  of  certain  psychophysiological 
elements  and  their  being  called  into  play. 
Now  suppose  he  elects  to  pursue  this  ob- 
ject, approves  this  course,  wills  it ;  if  the 


*  Richet, "  Physiologic  des  Nerfs  et  des  Muscles," 
PP-  477-490  f  Delboeuf ,  "  Etude  PsychophysiqueJ' 
pp.  92  et  segg.,  in  "  Elements  de  Psychophysique,' 
vol  i. 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


19 


resolution  does  not  persist,  it  is  because 
in  the  man's  organization  there  exists  no 
capacity  for  that  iterated  work  of  which 
we  have  spoken ;  but  if  the  resolution 
does  persist,  it  is  because  it  is  supported 
by  an  effort,  by  that  inner  work  which 
produces  arrest  of  the  opposite  states. 
Organs  are  developed  by  exercise,  and 
this  holds  good  here ;  so  that  repetition 
becomes  easy.  But  if  nature  has  laid  no 
foundation,  given  no  potential  energy, 
there  is  no  result.  Hence  the  theological 
doctrine  of  grace  as  a  free  gift  appears  to 
be  bottomed  on  a  far  more  correct  psy- 
chological theory  than  the  opposite  opin- 
ion,* and  we  see  how  easily  it  might  be 
made  to  undergo  a  physiological  transfor- 
mation. 

To  return  to  the  morbid  forms  that  are 
the  objects  of  our  study,  they  involve  a 
temporary,  accidental  incapacity  for  effort, 
which  however  extends  to  almost  the  en- 
tire organism. 


CHAPTER  III. 

IMPAIRMENT    OF    THE    WILL. — EXCESS 
OF    IMPULSION. 


WE  have  just  been  considering  in- 
stances in  which,  though  the  intellectual 
adaptation — that  is  the  correspondence 
between  the  intelligent  being  and  his  envi- 
ronment— is  normal,  the  impulse  toward 
action  is  either  null,  very  weak,  or  at  least 
insufficient.  In  the  language  of  physiol- 
ogy, the  cerebral  actions  which  are  the 
basis  of  intellectual  activity  (as  the  thought 
of  ends  and  of  means,  choice,  etc.),  remain 
intact,  but  they  lack  the  concomitant  states 
which  are  the  physiological  equivalents  of 
the  feelings,  and  the  absence  of  these 
causes  failure  to  act. 

We  are  now  to  study  phenomena  quite 
the  opposite  of  these  in  certain  respects. 
In  this  second  group  the  intellectual  adap- 
tation is  very  little,  or  at  all  events  very 
instable  ;  the  motives  dictated  by  reason 
are  forceless  either  for  action  or  for  re- 
straint ;  and  the  lower  impulses  gain  what 
the  higher  impulses  lose.  The  will,  that 
is  to  say  the  rational  activity,  disappears, 
and  the  individual  reverts  to  the  domain 
of  instinct.  Nothing  could  prove  more 
effectually  that  the  will,  in  the  strict  sense 
of  the  term,  is  the  crown,  the  final  term 
of  an  evolution,  the  result  of  a  multiplicity 


*  The  doctrine  of  grace  is  found  even  among  the 
Hindus,  particularly  in  the  "  Bhagavad  Gita,    xi.. 
53;      Consult  Earth,  "  Les  Religions  de  1'Inde, 
pp.  48, 136. 


of  disciplined  tendencies  coordinated  with 
one  another ;  that  it  is  the  most  perfect 
species  of  activity. 

Let  us  examine  the  facts.  We  will 
divide  them  into  two  groups:  i.  Those 
which,  being  hardly  if  at  all  conscious,  de- 
note an  absence  rather  than  an  impair- 
ment of  will ;  2.  Those  which  are  accom- 
panied by  perfect  consciousness,  but  in 
which,  after  a  longer  or  shorter  struggle, 
the  will  succumbs,  or  is  saved  only  by  as- 
sistance from  without. 

i .  In  the  former  case  "  the  impulsion 
may  be  sudden  and  unconscious,  followed 
by  immediate  execution,  the  understand- 
ing even  not  having  had  time  to  take  cog- 
nizance of  it.  ...  In  such  case  the  act 
possesses  all  the  characters  of  a  purely  re- 
flex phenomenon,  without  any  interven- 
tion whatever  of  the  will :  it  is  in  fact  a 
convulsion  differing  from  ordinary  con- 
vulsions only  in  that  it  consists  of  move- 
ments associated  and  combined  in  view 
of  a  determinate  result.  Such  is  the  case 
of  the  woman  who,  seated  on  a  bench  in 
a  garden,  oppressed  with  unwonted  sad- 
ness, suddenly  rose  to  her  feet,  threw  her- 
self into  a  ditch  full  of  water,  as  if  to  drown 
herself,  and  who,  after  being  rescued  and 
restored  to  herself  fully,  declared  a  few 
days  later  that  she  was  unconscious  of 
having  wanted  to  commit  suicide  and  had 
no  recollection  of  the  attempt  she  had 
made."  * 

"  I  have  seen,"  says  Luys,  "  a  number  of 
patients  who  repeatedly  attempted  suicide  in 
the  presence  of  those  who  watched  them,  but 
they  had  no  recollection  of  the  fact  in  their 
lucid  state.  And  what  proves  the  uncon- 
sciousness of  the  mind  under  these  conditions 
is  the  fact  that  the  patients  do  not  perceive 
the  inefficiency  of  the  methods  they  employ. 
Thus  a  lady  who  attempted  suicide  whenever 
she  saw  a  table  knife,  did  not  notice  one  day 
when  I  was  watching  her  that  I  had  substi- 
tuted for  the  knife  a  harmless  instrument. 
Another  patient  tried  to  hang  himself  with  a 
half  rotten  cord  that  was  not  strong  enough 
to  bear  even  slight  tension."  t 

Impulses  of  this  kind  are  so  frequent 
among  epileptics  that  pages  might  be 
filled  with  accounts  of  them.  Hysterical 
patients  too  furnish  innumerable  examples : 
they  manifest  an  uncontrollable  tendency 
toward  the  immediate  gratification  of 
their  caprices  or  the  satisfaction  of  their 
wants. 

Other  impulsions  produce  effects  that 

*  Foville, "  Nouveau  Dictionnaire  de  Medecine,' 
art.  FOLIE,  p.  342. 
t  "  Maladies  Mentales,"  pp.  373,  439,  440. 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


are  less  serious,  but  they  indicate  the 
same  psychic  state.  "  In  some  patients 
the  overexcitation  of  the  motor  forces  is 
such  that  they  keep  walking  for  hours  at 
a  time  without  stopping,  never  looking 
about  them,  like  mechanical  figures  that 
have  been  wound  up."  "  A  marchioness 
possessed  of  very  great  intelligence,"  says 
Billod,  "  would  in  conversation  interrupt 
a  sentence  with  an  unseemly  or  an  obscene 
epithet  addressed  to  some  one  in  the  com- 
pany, and  then  take  up  the  broken  sen- 
tence again.  The  utterance  of  this  epi- 
thet was  accompanied  by  a  blush ;  the 
lady  seemed  to  be  annoyed  and  confound- 
ed, and  the  word  was  as  it  were  jerked 
out,  like  an  arrow  that  is  shot  unawares 
from  the  bow."  "An  aged  victim  of 
hysteria,  a  woman  of  much  intelligence 
and  very  clear-headed,  used  to  feel  at 
certain  times  the  need  of  going  into  some 
lonely  place  and  shouting  aloud ;  there 
she  would  give  vent  to  her  grievances 
and  her  complaints  against  her  family  and 
her  surroundings.  She  knew  perfectly 
well  that  it  was  wrong  to  publish  certain 
secrets,  but,  as  she  used  to  say,  she  must 
speak  and  satisfy  her  grudges."  * 

This  last  case  brings  us  to  irresistible 
impulses  that  are  conscious.  But  at  pres- 
ent we  have  to  do  with  those  which  are 
unconscious.  Cases  of  this  kind  we 
might  cite  in  abundance.  They  exhibit 
the  individual  reduced  to  the  lowest  de- 
gree of  activity — that  of  pure  reflex  action. 
His  acts  are  unconscious  (or  at  least  not 
deliberate),  immediate,  irresistible,  and 
their  adaptation  is  of  little  complexity  and 
invariable.  Considered  from  the  point  of 
view  of  physiology  and  of  psychology,  the 
human  being,  under  these  conditions,  is 
like  an  animal  that  has  been  decapitated, 
or  at  least  deprived  of  its  cerebral  lobes. 
It  is  generally  held  that  the  brain  can 
govern  the  reflex  actions,  and  this  opinion 
rests  upon  the  following  grounds :  An 
excitation,  starting  from  any  point  of  the 
body  becomes  divided  on  reaching  the 
spinal  cord,  and  then  pursues  two  routes. 
It  is  transmitted  to  the  reflex  center  by  a 
transverse  route,  and  to  the  brain  by  a 
longitudinal  and  ascending  route.  Since 
the  transverse  route  presents  the  greater 
resistance,  transmission  in  that  direction 
takes  some  time,  while  transmission  lon- 
gitudinally on  the  contrary  is  much  more 
rapid.  Hence  there  is  time  for  the  sus- 
pensive action  of  the  brain  to  take  place 
and  to  regulate  the  reflex  actions.  The 


brain  being  in  the  causes  just  mentioned 
without  action,  its  activity  remains  at  its 
lower  degree  and  volition  does  not  occur, 
its  necessary  and  sufficient  conditions  not 
being  present. 

2.  The  phenomena  of  the  second 
group  are  worthy  of  more  detailed  study  : 
they  explain  the  overthrow  of  the  will  and 
the  artificial  means  that  support  it.  The 
patient  is  fully  conscious  of  his  situation  ; 
he  feels  that  he  is  not  master  of  himself, 
that  he  is  dominated  by  an  inner  force 
and  irresistibly  urged  on  to  perform  ac- 
tions that  he  condemns.  The  intelligence 
remains  sufficiently  sane,  and  the  insanity 
affects  only  the  acts.  We  find  in  a  work 
by  Marc  that  is  now  almost  forgotten* 
a  rich  collection  of  facts  upon  which  later 
writers  have  freely  drawn.  We  quote  a 
few. 

A  lady  subject  at  times  to  homicidal 
impulses  used  to  request  to  be  put  under 
restraint  by  means  of  a  strait  waistcoat, 
and  would  let  her  keeper  know  when  the 
danger  was  passed  and  when  she  might 
be  allowed  her  liberty.  A  chemist  haunted 
with  similar  homicidal  impulses  used  to 
have  his  thumbs  tied  together  with  a 
ribbon,  and  in  that  simple  restraint  found 
the  means  of  resisting  the  temptation. 
A  servant  woman  of  irreproachable  char- 
acter asked  her  mistress  to  let  her  go 
away,  because  she  was  strongly  tempted 
to  disembowel  the  infant  she  took  care  of 
whenever  she  saw  it  stripped.  Another 
woman,  a  person  of  much  intellectual 
cultivation  and  very  affectionate  to  her 
relatives,  "  began  to  beat  them  in  spite  of 
herself  and  called  for  assistance,  begging 
that  she  might  be  held  down  in  an  arm- 
chair." A  victim  of  melancholia  haunted 
with  the  thought  of  suicide  arose  in  the 
night,  knocked  at  his  brother's  door  and 
cried  out  to  him,  "  Come  quick ;  suicide 
is  pursuing  me  and  soon  I  shall  be  unable 
to  withstand  it." 

Calmeil  in  his  "Traite  des  Maladies 
Inflammatoires  du  Cerveau"  cites  the 
following  cases,  of  which  he  was  a  wit- 
ness and  which  I  will  give  in  detail,  for  so  I 
shall  be  dispensed  from  recounting  many 
more : 

"  Glenadel  having  lost  his  father  in  child- 
hood, was  brought  up  by  his  mother  who 
adored  him.  On  attaining  'his  i6th  year  his 
character  underwent  a  change.  Till  then  he 
had  been  a  good  and  dutiful  son,  but  now  he 
became  gloomy  and  taciturn.  Being  pressed 


*  Luys.  loco  citato,  167,  212  ;   Billod,  loco  fitato, 
193  *?• 


*  "De  la  Folie  consid^r^e  dans  ses  Rapports  avec 
les  Questions  M&lico-judiciaires."  a  vols.  8vo, 
Paris,  1840. 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE    WILL. 


21 


with  questions  by  his  mother,  he  at  length  re- 
solved to  make  a  confession : 

" '  To  you  I  owe  everything,'  he  said, '  and  I 
love  you  dearly :  still  for  the  last  few  days  a 
thought  that  is  ever  in  my  mind  has  been 
driving  me  to  kill  you.  Do  not  let  me  at 
last  give  way  to  it,  do  not  let  so  great  a  mis- 
fortune befall,  but  give  me  leave  to  enlist.' 
In  spite  of  her  urgent  solicitations  he  was 
immovable  in  his  resolution,  left  his  home 
and  made  a  good  soldier ;  yet  a  lurking  desire 
was  ever  urging  him  to  desert,  so  that  he 
might  return  and  kill  his  mother.  At  the 
close  of  his  term  of  service  this  thought  was 
as  strong  as  on  the  first  day.  He  enlisted 
for  another  term,  and  still  the  homicidal  in- 
stinct persisted,  though  now  another  victim 
was  substituted.  He  no  longer  thinks  of 
killing  his  mother ;  night  and  day  he  now  is 
conscious  of  a  horrid  impulse  to  murder  his 
step-sister.  In  order  to  withstand  this  second 
impulse  he  condemned  himself  to  lifelong  ex- 
ile from  his  home. 

"  At  this  juncture  a  man  from  his  own  neigh- 
borhood joined  the  regiment,  and  to  him 
Glenadel  confided  his  distressing  secret. 
*  Cheer  up,'  said  the  other,  'that  crime  is  out 
of  the  question,  for  your  step-sister  died  a 
short  time  ago.'  On  hearing  these  words 
Glenadel  sprung  to  his  feet  like  a  captive  set 
free.  He  was  filled  with  joy  and  set  out  for 
his  home,  which  he  had  not  seen  since  his 
boyhood.  Arrived  there  he  saw  his  step-sister 
alive.  He  uttered  a  cry,  and  the  terrible 
impulse  instantly  seized  him  again.  That 
evening  he  had  his  brother  to  put  him  under 
restraint.  '  Take  a  strong  cord,'  he  said, '  and 
tie  me  up  in  the  barn  like  a  wolf,  and  send 
word  to  Dr.  Calmeil.'  The  physician  ob- 
tained for  him  admission  to  an  asylum  for 
the  insane.  On  the  eve  of  his  admission  he 
wrote  to  the  director  of  the  asylum :  '  Sir, 
I  am  about  to  enter  your  establishment :  I 
shall  behave  there  as  in  my  regiment.  Peo- 
ple will  think  I  have  recovered,  and  at  times 
perhaps  I  shall  feign  recovery.  You  must 
not  believe  me,  and  I  must  never  be  permit- 
ted to  leave  under  any  pretext.  When  I  beg 
to  be  allowed  to  go  at  large,  redouble  your 
vigilance,  for  the  only  use  I  shall  make  of  that 
liberty  will  be  to  commit  a  crime  I  abhor.' " 

It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  this  case 
is  unique  or  even  a  very  uncommon  one  : 
in  works  on  insanity  we  find  recorded 
many  instances  of  persons  who,  torment- 
ed by  the  impulse  to  kill  those  who  are 
dear  to  them,  take  refuge  in  asylums, 
becoming  voluntary  prisoners. 

The  irresistible  though  conscious  im- 
pulse to  steal,  to  set  fire  to  houses,  to  com- 
mit suicide  by  alcoholic  excess,  belongs 
to  the  same  category.*  Maudsley  in  his 
"  Pathology  of  Mind  "  (Chapt.  VIII.)  pre- 
sents so  many  examples  that  I  cannot  do 


*  See    Trelat,    "  Folie     Lucide  ; "     Maudsley, 
1  Crime  and  Insanity." 


better  than  to  refer  to  that  work.  I  thus 
spare  the  reader  useless  repetition.  For 
me  it  suffices  to  point  out  the  enormous 
multitude  of  facts  which  justify  the  con- 
siderations I  am  about  to  offer. 

It  is  to  be  remarked  that  the  transi- 
tion from  the  sane  state  to  these  patholog- 
ical forms  is  almost  imperceptible.  Per- 
sons that  are  perfectly  rational  expe- 
rience insane  impulses,  but  these  sudden 
and  unwonted  states  of  consciousness 
are  without  effect,  do  not  pass  into  acts, 
being  suppressed  by  opposite  forces,  by  the 
dominant  mental  habit.  Between  this  iso- 
lated psychic  state  and  the  states  antago- 
nistic to  it  there  exists  so  great  a  dispro- 
portion that  there  is  even  no  struggle 
between  them.  In  other  cases,  usually 
regarded  as  of  very  little  moment, "  there 
is  some  eccentricity  of  behavior  but  noth- 
ing reprehensible  or  dangerous — simple 
oddity,  capriciousness.  Or  again,  a  per- 
son is  given  to  acts  which  though  not 
seriously  compromising  are  nevertheless 
mischievous — as  destroying  or  beating  an 
inanimate  object,  tearing  one's  clothing, 
etc.  We  have  at  the  present  time  under 
observation  a  young  woman  who  chews 
up  all  her  gowns.  Then  there  is  the  oft 
quoted  case  of  the  art  amateur  who, 
happening  at  a  museum  to  see  a  valuable 
painting,  felt  an  instinctive  impulse  to 
punch  a  hole  through  the  canvas.  Often- 
times these  impulsions  go  unnoticed, 
except  by  the  consciousness  of  the  one 
who  experiences  them."* 

Sometimes  fixed  ideas  of  a  character 
frivolous  or  unreasonable  find  lodgment 
in  the  mind  which,  though  it  deems 
them  absurd,  is  powerless  to  prevent 
them  from  passing  into  acts.  Many  cu- 
rious examples  of  this  are  to  be  found  in 
a  work  by  Westphal.  A  man,  for  instance, 
is  haunted  by  the  thought  that  perchance 
he  might  commit  to  writing  that  he  has 
been  guilty  of  some  crime,  and  lose  the 
paper.  Accordingly  he  carefully  pre- 
serves every  bit  of  paper  he  finds,  picks 
up  paper  on  the  streets  to  make  sure  that 
it  contains  no  writing,  takes  it  home  and 
hoards  it.  He  is  fully  conscious  of  the 
absurdity  of  the  phantasy  which  worries 
him  continually :  he  does  not  Relieve  in  it, 
nevertheless  he  is  powerless  to  dismiss  it.f 

*  Foville,  opus  citatum^  p.  341. 

t  Westphal,  "  Ueber  Zwangsvorstellungen,"  Ber- 
lin, 1877.  We  maV  add  that  the  fear  of  doing  an 
act  sometimes  leads  one  inevitably  to  do  it.  This 
we  see  illustrated  in  vertigo,  when  a  person  throws 
himself  down  in  the  street  through  fear  of  falling, 
when  one  wounds  himself  through  fear  lest  he 
should  wound  himself,  etc.  These  phenomena  are 
explained  by  the  nature  of  the  mental  representa- 
tion, which  by  reason  of  its  intensity  passes  into  act 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


Between  acts  that  are  frivolous  and 
those  which  are  dangerous  the  difference 
is  only  quantitative  :  what  the  former  ex- 
hibit to  us  foreshortened,  the  latter  exhibit 
in  enlarged  proportions.  We  will  try  to 
explain  the  mechanism  of  this  disorgan- 
ization of  the  will. 

In  the  normal  state  an  end  is  chosen, 
approved,  attained  ;  that  is  to  say  the  ele- 
ments of  the  Ego,  whether  all  or  a  major- 
ity of  them,  concur  toward  attaining  it. 
Our  states  of  consciousness — feelings  and 
ideas,  with  their  respective  motor  tenden- 
cies— and  the  movements  of  our  members 
form  a  consensus  that  converges  toward 
this  end  with  more  or  less  effort  by  means 
of  a  complex  mechanism  made  up  both  of 
impulsions  and  inhibitions. 

Such  is  the  will  in  its  perfect,  typical 
form.  But  this  is  not  a  natural  product ; 
it  is  the  result  of  art,  of  education,  of  ex- 
perience. It  is  a  structure  that  has  been 
built  up  slowly,  bit  by  bit.  Observation 
both  subjective  and  objective  shows  that 
each  form  of  voluntary  activity  is  the  fruit 
of  a  conquest.  Nature  supplies  only  the 
raw  material — in  the  physiological  order  a 
few  simple  movements,  in  the  psycholog- 
ical order  a  few  simple  associations.  To 
assist  these  simple  and  almost  invariable 
adaptations,  there  must  be  formed  other 
adaptations  more  and  more  complex  and 
variable.  For  instance,  the  babe  must  ac- 
quire the  power  of  using  its  legs,  arms,  and 
all  the  movable  portions  of  its  body,  by 
means  of  experiment,  combining  the  move- 
ments that  are  appropriate  and  suppress- 
ing those  which  are  of  no  advantage. 
The  simple  groups  so  formed  must  be  com- 
bined in  complex  groups,  these  into  groups 
more  complex  still,  and  so  on.  A  similar 
operation  is  necessary  in  the  psychological 
order.  What  is  complex  is  never  won  at 
the  first  effort. 

But  it  is  plain  that  in  the  edifice  so  built 
up  little  by  little  the  original  materials 
alone  are  stable,  and  that  as  complexity 
increases  stability  diminishes.  The  sim- 
plest actions  are  the  most  stable  anatomi- 
cally, because  they  are  congenital,  regis- 
tered in  the  organism ;  and  physiologically, 
because  they  are  continually  repeated  in 
the  experience  of  the  individual,  as  also — 
if  we  take  account  of  heredity,  which  opens 
up  an  illimitable  field— in  the  innumerable 
experiences  of  the  species  and  of  all  spe- 
cies.* 

*  The  will-power  being  constituted  when  certain 
groups  of  movements  obey  certain  states  of  con- 
sciousness, we  may  cite  as  a  pathological  case  the 
fact  mentioned  by  Meschede  ("  Correspondenz- 
blatt,"  1874)  of  a  man  who  "  found  himself  in  this 
curious  condition,  that  when  he  would  do  anything. 


On  the  whole,  the  surprising  thing  is 
that  the  will,  the  complex  and  higher  order 
of  activity,  should  become  predominant. 
The  causes  which  raise  it  to  that  rank 
and  hold  it  there  are  the  same  which  in 
man  raise  and  hold  the  intelligence  above 
the  sensations  and  the  instincts  :  and  tak- 
ing humanity  as  a  whole,  facts  prove  the 
dominion  of  the  one  to  be  as  precarious  as 
that  of  the  other.  The  great  develop- 
ment of  the  mass  of  the  brain  in  civilized 
man,  and  the  influence  of  education  and 
of  the  habits  it  produces,  explain  how  it  is 
that,  in  the  face  of  so  many  adverse 
chances,  rational  activity  so  often  retains 
the  mastery. 

The  pathological  facts  that  have  been 
cited  prove  that  the  will  is  no  entity  reign- 
ing by  right  of  birth,  but  a  resultant  that 
is  always  instable,  always  liable  to  break 
up,  and  in  truth  only  a  lucky  accident. 
These  facts — and  they  are  innumerable — 
represent  a  state  that  may  be  regarded 
equally  as  a  dislocation  of  the  will  and  a 
retrograde  form  of  activity. 

If  we  study  cases  of  irregular  im- 
pulsions accompanied  by  full  conscious- 
ness, we  find  that  this  subordination  of 
tendencies — the  will — is  here  broken  in 
twain  :  for  the  consensus  which  alone  con- 
stitutes the  will  is  substituted  a  conflict  be- 
tween two  groups  of  opposite  and  nearly 
equal  tendencies,  and  hence  it  may  truly 
be  said  that  the  will  is  dislocated.* 

Considering  the  will  not  as  a  constituted" 
whole  but  as  the  culminating  point  of  ark 
evolution,  we  must  say  that  the  lower 
forms  of  activity  have  the  mastery  and 
that  the  activity  which  is  distinctively 
human  retrogrades.  We  would  observe 
however  that  the  term  "  lower  "  has  no 
moral  implication  here.  One  group  is 
lower  because  it  is  evident  that  the  activ- 
ity which  expends  itself  wholly  in  ex- 
pressing a  fixed  idea  or  a  blind  impulse 
is  by  its  nature  restricted,  adapted  only  to 


whether  of  his  own  accord  or  at  the  instance  of 
others,  he,  or  rather  his  muscles,  did  just  the  con- 
trary. If  he  would  look  to  the  right,  his  eyes  turned 
to  the  left ;  and  this  anomaly  extended  to  all  his 
movements.  It  was  simply  a  contra-direction  of 
movement  without  any  mental  derangement,  and 
it  differed  in  this  from  involuntary  movements,  that 
he  never  produced  a  movement  save  when  he 
willed  it,  though  the  movement  was  always  the> 
reverse  of  what  he  willed." 

*  We  might  show,  were  this  the  place,  how  fickle 
a  thing  is  the  unity  of  the  Ego  and  how  unreliable. 
In  these  cases  of  conflict  which  is  the  true  Egos 
that  which  acts  or  that  which  resists  ?  If  you  de- 
cide in  favor  of  neither,  then  there  are  two  Egos. 
If  you  decide  in  favor  of  either,  you  must  admit 
that  the  preferred  group  represents  the  Ego  about 
as  in  politics  the  party  that  is  slightly  in  the  major- 
ity represents  the  state.  But  these  questions  can- 
not be  discussed  incidentally.  I  hope  some  day  to 
devote  a  monograph  to  them. 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


the  present  and  to  a  very  small  number  of 
circumstances,  while  rational  activity  on 
the  other  hand  transcends  the  present 
and  is  adapted  to  a  great  number  of  cir- 
cumstances. 

It  must  be  admitted,  though  language 
does  not  lend  itself  readily  to  such  a  form 
of  expression,  that  the  will,  like  the  intel- 
ligence, has  its  idiots  and  its  geniuses, 
with  all  the  degrees  intermediate  between 
these  two.  From  this  point  of  view  the 
cases  cited  in  the  first  group  (impulses 
not  attended  by  consciousness)  would 
represent  will-idiocy,  or,  in  more  precise 
language,  will-dementia;  the  facts  of  the 
second  group  would  exhibit  a  weakness 
of  will  analogous  to  weakness  of  intellect. 

Pursuing  our  research,  we  must  now 
pass  to  an  analysis  of  the  facts  and  must 
determine  their  causes.  Is  it  possible  to 
ascertain  the  conditions  upon  which  this 
weakening  of  the  higher  activity  depends  ? 
First  of  all  we  have  to  inquire  whether  the 
overthrow  of  the  will  is  an  effect  of  the 
predominance  of  the  reflex  actions,  or 
whether  on  the  contrary  it  is  the  cause  of 
that  predominance  :  in  other  words, 
whether  the  weakening  of  the  will  is  the 
primary  or  the  secondary  fact.  This 
question  admits  of  no  general  answer. 
Observation  shows  that  both  propositions 
are  true  with  respect  to  different  cases, 
and  consequently  we  can  give  only  a 
special  answer  for  a  special  case  whose 
circumstances  are  fully  known.  No  doubt 
oftentimes  the  irresistible  impulse  is  the 
origo  malt :  it  constitutes  a  permanent 
pathological  state.  There  is  then  pro- 
duced in  the  psychological  order  a  phe- 
nomenon analogous  to  hypertrophy  of  an 
organ,  or  to  the  overproliferation  of  a 
tissue,  as  for  example  that  which  leads 
to  the  formation  of  certain  forms  of  can- 
cer. In  both  instances,  whether  the  phys- 
iological or  the  psychological,  this  vicious 
development  makes  itself  felt  throughout 
the  entire  organism. 

The  cases  wherein  voluntary  activity  is 
affected  directly  and  not  as  an  indirect 
effect,  are  of  most  interest  for  us.  What 
takes  place  in  such  cases  ?  Is  it  the  power 
of  coordination  or  the  power  of  inhibition 
that  is  affected,  or  both?  An  obscure 
point  upon  which  only  a  conjecture  may 
be  offered.  To  obtain  some  light  upon  it, 
let  us  investigate  two  new  groups  of  facts, 
viz.,  the  artificial  and  momentary  impair- 
ment of  the  will  produced  by  intoxication ; 
and  the  chronic  impairment  produced  by 
lesion  of  the  brain. 

As  every  one  knows,  the  intoxication 
caused  by  alcoholic  liquors,  by  hashish, 


by  opium,  after  a  first  period  of  superex- 
citation  brings  about  a  notable  impair- 
ment of  the  will.  The  individual  is  more 
or  less  conscious  of  this :  other  persons 
see  it  more  distinctly.  Soon — especially 
under  the  influence  of  alcohol — the  im- 
pulsions become  excessive.  The  extrav- 
agances, violences  and  crimes  committed 
in  this  state  are  innumerable.  The  mech- 
anism of  the  onset  of  intoxication  is  sub- 
ject of  warm  controversy.  It  is  generally 
supposed  that  it  begins  with  the  brain, 
later  acting  upon  the  spinal  cord  and  the 
medulla,  and  lastly  upon  the  great  sympa- 
thetic. There  is  produced  an  intellectual 
hebetude — that  is  to  say,  the  states  of 
consciousness  are  vague,  indefinite,  of  little 
intensity  :  the  physiopsychological  activity 
of  the  brain  is  reduced.  This  decline  of  ac- 
tivity extends  also  to  the  motor  power. 
Obersteiner  has  proved  by  experiments^ 
that  under  the  influence  of  alcohol  one 
reacts  less  promptly,  though  he  imagines 
that  the  contrary  is  the  fact.*  It  is  not 
the  ideation  alone  that  is  affected  but  also 
the  ideomotor  activity.  At  the  same 
time  the  power  of  coordination  becomes 
null  or  ephemeral  and  forceless.  Now 
since  coordination  consists  both  in  con- 
verging certain  impulsions  toward  an  end 
and  in  directing  impulsions  that  are  use- 
less or  antagonistic  to  that  end,  it  fol- 
lows from  the  fact  that  the  reflex  actions 
are  excessive  or  violent  in  any  case,  that 
the  power  of  inhibition — whatever  may  be 
its  nature  and  mechanism — is  impaired, 
and  that  its  part  in  constituting  and  main- 
taining will-action  is  all-essential. 

The  pathology  of  the  brain  affords  other 
confirmatory  facts,  all  the  more  striking 
because  they  show  a  sudden  and  perma- 
nent change  in  the  individual.  Ferrier 
and  other  writers  cite  cases  where  lesion 
of  the  frontal  convolutions,  especially  the 
first  and  second,  led  to  almost  total  loss 
of  will,  and  reduced  the  patient  to  autom- 
atism, or  at  least  to  that  state  wherein  the 
instinctive  activity  reigns  almost  alone, 
without  possibility  of  inhibition. 

An  infant  was  wounded  by  a  knife  in 
the  frontal  lobe.  Seventeen  years  after- 
ward his  physical  health  was  good,  "  but 
he  was  incapable  of  occupations  that  de- 
manded mental  exertion.  He  was  irrita- 
ble, especially  when  he  drank  intoxicating 


*  "  Brain,"  Jan.,  1879.  A  considerable  number  a 
experiments  have  been  made  with  respect  to  thic 
point,  with  uniform  results.  See  Exner,  in  "  Pflli 
ger's  Archiv,"  1873  ;  Dietl  and  Vintschgau,  ibidem 
1877  ;  also  an  account  of  an  important  research  madv 
by  Kraepelin  in  Wundt's  psychophysiological  labo- 
ratory, published  in  "  Philosophische  Studien,"  pp. 
573  Se9<7- 


24 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


liquor  or  when  he  was  under  any  extraor- 
dinary excitement."  A  patient  of  Lepine's 
suffering  from  an  abscess  in  the  right 
frontal  lobe  "  was  in  a  state  of  hebetude. 
He  seemed  to  understand  what  was  said 
to  him,  but  only  with  difficulty  could  he 
pronounce  a  word.  On  being  bidden  he 
would  sit  down ;  raise  him  from  the  chair 
and  he  could  walk  a  few  steps  unassisted." 
A  man  who  had  received  a  violent  blow 
which  destroyed  the  greater  part  of  the 
first  and  second  frontal  convolutions  "  lost 
all  will-power.  He  understood  what  was 
said  and  acted  as  he  was  bid  to  act,  but 
in  an  automatic,  mechanical  way." 

Many  similar  cases  are  on  record,*  but 
the  one  which  is  most  important  for  us 
is  that  of  the  "  American  carrier."  A 
bar  of  iron  shot  from  a  mine  passed 
through  his  skull,  injuring  only  the  prae- 
frontal  region.  He  recovered  and  sur- 
vived the  accident  twelve  years  and  a 
half ;  but  of  the  patient's  mental  state  af- 
ter recovery  the  following  particulars  are 
given  :  His  employers,  who  before  the  ac- 
cident regarded  him  as  one  of  their  best 
foremen,  found  him  so  changed  that  they 
could  not  restore  him  to  his  former  posi- 
tion. The  equilibrium,  the  balance  be- 
tween his  intellectual  faculties  and  his  in- 
stinctive tendencies,  seemed  to  have  been 
destroyed.  He  had  become  nervous, 
disrespectful  and  grossly  profane.  He 
showed  now  but  little  politeness  to  his 
equals,  was  impatient  of  contradiction, 
and  would  listen  to  no  advice  that  ran 
counter  to  his  own  ideas.  At  times  he 
was  exceedingly  obstinate,  though  capri- 
cious and  indecisive.  He  would  make 
plans  for  the  future,  and  forthwith  reject 
them  and  adopt  others.  He  was  a  child 
intellectually,  a  man  in  passions  and  in- 
stincts. Before  the  accident,  though  he 
had  not  received  a  school  education,  he 
had  a  well-balanced  mind,  and  was  re- 
garded as  a  man  of  good  natural  ability, 
sagacious,  energetic  and  persevering.  In 
all  these  respects  he  was  now  so  changed 
that  his  friends  said  they  no  longer  recog- 
nized him.t 

In  this  case  we  see  the  will  impaired  in 
proportion  as  the  inferior  activity  becomes 
stronger.  Furthermore  we  have  here  an 
experiment,  for  here  is  a  sudden  change 
brought  about  by  an  accident  under 
clearly  defined  circumstances. 

It  is  to  be  regretted  that  we  have  not 
many  observations  of  this  kind,  for  with 
their  aid  a  great  deal  might  be  done 

T  *  See  Huxley's  essay  on  "  Animal  Automatism." 

It  will  be  published  in  No.  53  HUMBOLDT  LIBRARY. 

t  Ferrier, "  Localization  of  Diseases  of  the  Brain." 


toward  the  interpretation  of  the  diseases 
of  the  will.  Unfortunately  the  researches 
so  vigorously  prosecuted  with  regard  to 
localization  of  functions  in  the  brain  have 
had  to  do  mostly  with  the  motor  and  the 
sensorial  regions,  and  these,  as  we  know, 
occupy  only  a  portion  of  the  frontal  region. 
So  too  there  is  need  of  a  critical  examina- 
tion of  the  opposite  class  of  facts,  those 
namely  which  go  to  show  that  though  the 
brain  has  suffered  lesion,  the  will-power 
is  apparently  undiminished.  This  work 
accomplished,  then  Ferrier 's  theory  that 
there  exist  in  the  frontal  lobes  centers  of 
inhibition  for  the  intellectual  operations, 
would  assume  greater  consistence  and 
would  supply  a  solid  basis  for  the  deter- 
mination of  the  causes.  As  things  stand, 
we  may  not  attempt  anything  beyond  con- 
jectures. 

When  we  compare  the  case  of  aboulia 
with  that  of  the  existence  of  irresistible 
impulses,  we  see  that  in  the  two  cases 
will  is  in  default  owing  to  totally  opposite 
conditions.  In  the  one  case  the  intelli- 
gence is  intact,  but  impulsion  is  wanting  ; 
in  the  other,  the  power  of  coordination 
and  of  inhibition  being  absent,  the  impulse 
expends  itself  in  purely  automatic  fashion. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

IMPAIRMENT   OF    VOLUNTARY    ATTEN- 
TION. 

WE  are  now  to  study  impairment  of 
the  will  in  a  less  striking  form,  namely, 
impairment  of  the  power  of  voluntary  at- 
tention. This  does  not  in  its  essence  dif- 
fer from  the  impairments  belonging  to  the 
group  we  have  just  been  considering,  since 
like  them  it  consists  in  an  impairment  of 
the  power  of  directing  and  of  adaptation. 
It  is  a  diminution  of  will-power  in  the 
strictest,  straitest,  and  narrowest  sense  of 
the  term,  and  it  is  indisputable  even  in 
the  eyes  of  those  who  restrict  themselves 
most  obstinately  to  interior  observation. 

Before  we  turn  our  attention  to  acquired 
impairment,  let  us  consider  congenital  im- 
pairment of  voluntary  attention.  Wewil! 
take  no  note  of  narrow  or  mediocre  minds, 
in  which  feelings,  intelligence  and  will  are 
at  one  dead  level  of  weakness.  It  is  more 
interesting  to  study  a  great  mind,  some 
man  gifted  with  high  intelligence,  with  a 
quick  sensibility,  but  who  lacks  the  power 
of  direction :  thus  we  shall  see  a  perfect 
contrast  between  thought  and  will.  We 
have  in  Coleridge  an  instance  of  this. 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


25 


"  There  was  probably  no  man  of  his  time 
or  perhaps  of  any  time  who  surpassed  Cole- 
ridge," says  Dr.  Carpenter,*  "in  the  combina- 
tion of  the  reasoning  powers  of  the  philoso- 
pher with  the  imagination  of  the  poet  and 
the  inspiration  of  the  seer ;  and  there  was 
perhaps  not  one  of  the  last  generation  who  has 
left  so  strong  an  impress  of  himself  in  the 
subsequent  course  of  thought  of  reflective 
minds  engaged  in  the  highest  subjects  of 
human  contemplation.  And  yet  there  was 
probably  never  a  man  endowed  with  such  re- 
markable gifts  who  accomplished  so  little 
that  was  worthy  of  them,  the  great  defect  of 
his  character  being  the  want  of  Will  to  turn 
his  gifts  to  account;  so  that  with  numerous 
gigantic  projects  constantly  floating  in  his 
mind,  he  never  brought  himself  even  seriously 
to  attempt  to  execute  any  of  them.  It  used 
to  be  said  of  him  that  whenever  either  nat- 
ural obligation  or  voluntary  undertaking  made 
it  his  duty  to  do  anything,  the  fact  seemed  a 
sufficient  reason  for  his  not  doing  it.  Thus 
at  the  very  outset  of  his  career,  when  he  had 
found  a  bookseller  generous  enough  to  prom- 
ise him  thirty  guineas  for  poems  which  he 
recited  to  him,  and  might  have  received  the 
•whole  sum  immediately  on  delivering  the 
manuscript,  he  went  on  week  after  week  beg- 
ging and  borrowing  for  his  daily  needs  in  the 
most  humiliating  manner,  until  he  had  drawn 
from  his  patron  the  whole  of  the  promised 
purchase  money,  without  supplying  him  with 
a  line  of  that  poetry  which  he  had  only  to 
•write  down  to  free  himself  from  obligation. 
The  habit  of  recourse  to  nervine  stimulants 
(alcohol  and  opium)  which  he  early  formed 
and  from  which  he  never  seemed  able  to  free 
himself  doubtless  still  further  weakened  his 
power  of  volitional  self-control,  so  that  it  be- 
came necessary  for  his  welfare  that  he  should 
yield  himself  to  the  control  of  others. 

"  The  composition  of  the  poetical  fragment 
'  Kubla  Khan '  in  his  sleep,  as  told  in  his 
*  Biographia  Litteraria,'  is  a  typical  example 
of  automatic  mental  action.  He  fell  asleep 
whilst  reading  the  passage  in  '  Purchas's 
Pilgrimage  '  in  which  the  '  stately  pleasure 
house '  is  mentioned,  and  on  awaking  he  felt 
as  if  he  had  composed  from  two  to  three 
hundred  lines,  which  he  had  nothing  to'  do 
but  to  write  down,  '  the  images  rising  up  as 
things,  with  a  parallel  production  of  the  cor- 
respondent expressions,  without  any  sensation 
or  consciousness  of  effort.'  The  whole  of 
this  singular  fragment  as  it  stands,  consist- 
ing of  fifty-four  lines,  was  written  as  fast  as 
his  pen  could  trace  the  words ;  but  having 
been  interrupted  by  a  person  on  business 
who  stayed  with  him  above  an  hour,  he  found 
to  his  surprise  and  mortification  that  '  though 
he  still  retained  some  vague  and  dim  recol- 
lection of  the  general  purport  of  the  vision, 
yet  with  the  exception  of  some  eight  or  ten 
scattered  lines  and  images,  all  the  rest  had 
passed  away  like  the  images  on  the  surface 
of  a  stream  into  which  a  stone  has  been  cast, 


*  "  Mental  Physiology,"  pp.  266-7. 


but,  alas  !  without  the  after-restoration  of  the 
latter.' " 

Dr.  Carpenter  then  quotes  the  descrip- 
tion of  Coleridge  given  in  Chapter  VII. 
of  Carlyle's  "  Life  of  John  Sterling  " : 

"  Coleridge's  whole  figure  and  air,  good 
and  amiabje,  otherwise,  might  be  called  flabby 
and  irresolute,  expressive  of  weakness  under 
possibility  of  strength.  He  hung  loosely  on 
his  limbs,  with  knees  bent  and  stooping  atti- 
tude. In  walking  he  rather  shuffled  than 
decisively  stepped;  and  a  lady  once  re- 
marked he  never  could  fix  which  side  of  the 
garden  walk  would  suit  him  best,  but  con- 
tinually shifted  in  corkscrew  fashion  and 
kept  trying  both. 

"  Nothing  could  be  more  copious  than  his 
talk ;  and  furthermore  it  was  always  virtually 
or  literally  of  the  nature  of  a  monologue ; 
suffering  no  interruption  however  reverent : 
hastily  putting  aside  all  foreign  additions, 
annotations  or  most  ingenious  desires  for 
elucidation  as  well-meant  superfluities  which 
would  never  do.  Besides  it  was  talk  not 
flowing  any  whither  like  a  river,  but  spread- 
ing everywhither  in  inextricable  currents 
and  regurgitations  like  a  lake  or  sea ;  terri- 
bly deficient  in  definite  goal  or  aim,  nay, 
often  in  logical  intelligibility ;  what  you  were 
to  believe  or  do  on  any  earthly  or  heavenly 
thing,  obstinately  refusing  to  appear  from  it. 
So  that  most  times  you  felt  logically  lost, 
swamped,  near  to  drowning  in  this  tide  of  in- 
genious vocables  spreading  out  boundless  as 
if  to  submerge  the  world. 

"  He  began  anywhere.  You  put  some 
question  to  him,  made  some  suggestive  ob- 
servation ;  instead  of  answering  this  or  de- 
cidedly setting  out  toward  answering  it,  he 
would  accumulate  formidable  apparatus,  log- 
ical swim-bladders,  transcendental  life-pre- 
servers and  other  precautionary  and  vehicu- 
latory  gear  for  setting  out ;  perhaps  did  at 
last  get  under  way,  but  was  swiftly  solicited, 
turned  aside  by  the  glance  of  some  radiant 
new  game  on  this  side  or  that  into  new 
courses  and  ever  into  new,  and  before  long 
into  all  the  universe,  where  it  was  uncertain 
what  game  you  would  catch  or  whether  any. 
His  talk,  alas !  was  distinguished  like  himself 
by  irresolution :  it  disliked  to  be  troubled 
with  conditions,  abstinences,  definite  fulfil- 
ments ;  loved  to  wander  at  its  own  sweet 
will  and  make  its  auditor 'and  his  claims  and 
humble  wishes  a  mere  passive  bucket  for 
itself. 

"  Glorious  islets  too,  balmy,  sunny  islets  of 
the  blest  and  the  intelligible  I  have  seen  rise 
out  of  the  haze,  but  they  were  few  and  soon 
swallowed  in  the  general  element  again. 

"  Eloquent,  artistically  expressive  words 
you  always  had ;  piercing  radiances  of  a 
most  subtle  insight  came  at  intervals  ;  tones 
of  noble  pious  sympathy,  recognizable  as 
pious  though  strangely  colored,  were  never 
wanting  long ;  but  in  general  you  could  not 
call  this  aimless,  cloud-rapt,  cloud-based, 


26 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


lawiessiv  meandering  human  discourse  of 
reason  by  the  name  of  '  excellent  talk,'  but 
only  of  '  surprising,'  and  were  bitterly  re- 
minded of  Hazlitt's  account  of  it :  'Excel- 
lent talker,  very — if  you  let  him  start  from  no 
premises  and  come  to  no  conclusion.'  " 

We  now  turn  to  familiar  instances  of 
acquired  impairment  of  voluntary  atten- 
tion. It  occurs  in  two  forms.  The  first 
is  characterized  by  excessive  intellectual  ac- 
tivity, superabundance  of  states  of  con- 
sciousness and  abnormal  production  of 
feelings  and  ideas  in  a  given  time,  as  we 
have  seen  when  speaking  of  alcoholic  in- 
toxication. This  exuberance  of  cerebral 
activity  is  more  noticeable  still  in  the 
more  intellectual  intoxication  produced 
by  hashish'and  opium.  The  individual 
feels  himself  to  be  overwhelmed  by  the 
irresistible  tide  of  his  ideas,  and  language 
is  too  slow  to  render  the  rapidity  of  his 
thoughts ;  but  at  the  same  time  the  power 
of  directing  the  course  of  his  ideas  becomes 
weaker  and  weaker,  and  the  lucid  mo- 
ments shorter  and  shorter.*  This  state 
of  psychic  exuberance,  whatever  its  cause, 
— fever,  cerebral  anaemia,  emotion — 
always  has  the  same  result. 

Between  this  state  and  attention  there 
is  a  perfect  antagonism  :  one  excludes  the 
other.  We  have  here  in  fact  only  a  spe- 
cial case  of  excessive  reflex  action,  only 
that  here  we  have  to  do  with  psychic  re- 
,  flex  action.  In  other  words  all  states  of 
consciousness  tend  to  expend  themselves, 
and  this  they  can  do  only  in  two  ways, 
either  by  producing  a  movement,  an  act ; 
or  by  calling  forth  other  states  of  con- 
sciousness, according  to  the  law  of  asso- 
ciation. The  latter  process  is  a  case  of 
reflex  action  of  a  complex  kind — psychic 
reflex  action — but  like  physiological  reflex 
action  it  is  only  a  form  of  automatism. 

The  second  form  brings  us  back  to  the 
type  of  aboulia.  It  consists  in  a  progres- 
sive diminution  of  the  directive  power  and 
eventual  impossibility  of  intellectual  effort. 

"  In  the  incipient  stage  of  disease  of  the 
brain,"  says  Forbes  Winslow.t  "the  patient 
complains  of  an  incapacity  to  control  and 
direct  the  faculty  of  attention.  He  finds  he 
cannot  without  an  obvious  and  painful  effort 
accomplish  his  usual  mental  work,  read  or 
master  the  contents  of  a  letter,  newspaper  or 
even  a  page  or  two  of  a  favorite  book.  The 
ideas  become  restive  and  the  mind  lapses 
into  a  flighty  condition,  exhibiting  no  capacity 
for  continuity  of  thought. 


*  Moreau   "  Du  Hashish  et  de  1'Alidnation  Men- 
tale,    p.  60  ;  Richet, "  Les  Poisons  del'Intelligence," 

*  *'  °n  Son»e  .Obscure  Diseases  of  the  Brain  and 
Mind,    chap.  xn. 


"  Fully  recognizing  his  impaired  and  failing, 
energies,  the  patient  repeatedly  tries  to  con- 
quer the  defect,  and  seizing  hold  of  a  book,, 
is  resolved  not  to  succumb  to  his  sensations 
of  intellectual  incapacity,  physical  languor 
and  cerebral  weakness ;  but  he  often  discov- 
ers (when  it  is  too  late  to  grapple  with  the 
mischief)  that  he  has  lost  all  power  of  healthy 
mental  steadiness,  normal  concentration,  or 
coordination  of  thought.  In  his  attempt  to 
comprehend  the  meaning  of  the  immediate 
subject  under  contemplation,  he  reads  and 
re-reads  with  a  determined  resolution,  and 
apparently  unflagging  energy,  certain  striking 
passages  and  pages  of  a  particular  book,  but 
without  being  able  to  grasp  the  simplest 
chain  of  thought,  or  follow  successfully  an 
elementary  process  of  reasoning;  neither  is 
he  in  a  condition  of  mind  fitting  him  to  com- 
prehend or  retain  for  many  consecutive  sec- 
onds the  outline  of  an  interesting  story,  un- 
derstand a  simple  calculation  of  figures  or 
narrative  of  facts.  The  attempt,  particularly 
if  it  be  a  sustained  one,  to  master  and  con- 
verge the  attention  to  the  subject  which  he 
is  trying  to  seize,  very  frequently  increases 
the  pre-existing  confusion  of  mind,  producing 
eventually  physical  sensations  of  brain  lassi- 
tude and  headache." 

Many  general  paralytics,  after  passing 
through  the  period  of  intellectual  over- 
activity — the  period  of  gigantic  projects, 
of  immoderate  purchases,  of  purposeless 
voyages,  of  incessant  loquacity,  during 
which  the  will  is  dominated  by  the  reflex 
actions,  reach  later  the  period  when  it  is 
impotent  from  atonicity :  effort  persists 
but  for  a  moment,  till  at  last  this  ever 
increasing  passivity  ends  in  dementia.* 

The  reader  sees  without  any  commen- 
tary that  the  diseases  of  voluntary  atten- 
tion are  reducible  to  the  types  already 
considered.  It  will  be  best  therefore 
without  citing  any  further  instances  to- 
inquire  what  instruction  may  be  derived 
from  that  state  of  the  mind  called  atten- 
tion, as  to  the  nature  of  the  will,  and 
what  suggestions  bearing  upon  the  present 
research.  For  this  purpose  it  is  not  nec- 
essary that  we  make  a  study  of  attention, 
however  interesting,  however  ill-under- 
stood that  subject  may  be.  The  question: 

*  Of  this  class  of  patients  some,  but  they  are  few 
pass  through  a  period  of  struggle  which  shows 
wherein  the  will  is  master  and  how  it  eventually 
succumbs.  "  I  have  seen  at  Bicetre,"  says  Billed, 
"  a  general  paralytic  whose  delire  des  grandeurs 
was  of  the  most  ultra  type,  escape  from  the  estab- 


lishment and   go  barefoot  through  a  driving  rain, 
ilddle  of  the  night  from  Bicetre 


storm  and  in  the  m 


..M.J    •  •  in   t  £  etui  OL   mo    lillt-lICVLUetl     UC11I I  UII1  ,    K.IMJ  V\  Illg 

well  that  should  he  betray  the  first  symptom  of  in- 
sanity, he  would  be  sent  back  to  Bicetre.  He  came 
back  nevertheless.  I  have  met  with  several  other 
instances  of  soundness  of  will  persisting  for  a  con- 
siderable lime  in  general  paralytics." 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


27 


can  be  considered  here  only  in  part,  that  is 
so  far  as  it  concerns  the  wiR.  I  shall 
restrict  my  conclusions  upon  this  point  to 
the  following  propositions : 

1.  Voluntary  attention,  which  is  com- 
monly credited  with   marvelous   feats,  is 
only  an  imitation,  artificial,  instable   and 
precarious,  of  spontaneous  attention. 

2.  The  latter  alone  is  natural  and  ef- 
fective. 

3.  It  depends,   as   regards   its   origin 
and  its  permanence,  upon  certain  affective 
states,  upon  the  presence  of  agreeable  or 
disagreeable  feelings :  in  a  word  it  is  sen- 
sitive in  its  origin,  and  hence  allied  to  the 
reflex  actions. 

4.  The  inhibiting  action  appears  to  play 
an  important  but  as  yet  indefinable  part 
in  the  mechanism  of  attention. 

To  establish  these  propositions  it  is  well 
first  to  examine  spontaneous  attention, 
considering  it  in  all  its  different  forms. 
The  crouching  animal  watching  its  prey ; 
the  child  intently  gazing  at  a  common- 
place spectacle  ;  the  assassin  awaiting  his 
victim  in  a  nook  of  a  wood — here  the 
mental  image  takes  the  place  of  the  real 
object ;  the  poet  contemplating  an  inward 
vision ;  the  mathematician  studying  out 
the  solution  of  a  problem :  *  all  present 
essentially  the  same  interior  and  exterior 
characters. 

With  Sergi  I  define  the  state  of  intense 
spontaneous  attention  to  be  a  differentia- 
tion of  perception  producing  greater  psy- 
chic energy  in  some  of  the  nerve  centers, 
and  a  sort  of  temporary  catalepsy  in  other 
centers.!  But  I  have  not  to  study  atten- 
tion in  itself,  only  to  determine  its  origin, 
its  cause. 

Plainly  in  the  states  above  enumerated 
and  in  their  analogues,  the  true  cause  is 
an  affective  state,  a  feeling  of  pleasure, 
love,  hate,  curiosity  :  in  short  a  state  more 
or  less  complex,  agreeable,  disagreeable 
or  mixed.  Because  the  prey,  the  specta- 
cle, the  thought  of  the  victim,  the  problem 
to  be  solved  produce  in  the  animal,  the 
child,  the  assassin,  the  mathematician,  an 
emotion  that  is  intense  and  sufficiently  dur- 
able, they  are  attentive.  Eliminate  emo- 
tion, and  all  is  gone :  but  while  emotion 
lasts,  so  does  attention.  The  modus 
operandi  is  as  in  those  reflex  actions  which 
seem  to  be  continuous,  because  an  excita- 
tion that  is  incessantly  repeated  and  which 

*  Of  course  we  speak  of  poets  and  mathemati- 
cians that  are  such  by  nature,  not  by  education. 

t  Sergi,  "Teoria  Fisiologica  della  Percezione." 
See  also  Lewes,  "Problems  of  Life  and  Mind," 
Third  Series;  Maudsley,  "Physiology  of  Mind  ;  " 
Wundt,  "  GrundzUge  der  Physiologischen  Psycho- 
logic ;  "  Ferrier,  "  The  Functions  of  the  Brain." 


is  ever  the  same  keeps  them  up  till  ner- 
vous exhaustion  is  produced. 

Is  a  counter  proof  required  ?  Observe 
the  incapacity  for  protracted  attention  of 
children,  women,  and  in  general  those  of 
inferior  mental  force.  The  reason  is  that 
objects  awaken  in  them  only  superficial, 
instable  feelings,  and  they  are  quite  inat- 
tentive to  high,  complex,  profound  ques- 
tions, for  these  do  not  touch  their  emotions. 
On  the  other  hand  they  are  attentive  to 
trifles,  for  these  interest  them.  I  might 
add  that  the  orator  and  the  writer  hold 
the  attention  of  their  public  by  addressing- 
their  feelings.  Look  at  the  matter  from 
whatever  side,  and  the  same  conclusion 
is  inevitable ;  nor  would  I  dwell  upon  so 
evident  a  fact  were  it  not  that  the  authors 
who  have  studied  the  subject  of  attention 
seem  to  have  forgotten  this  all-important 
influence. 

Spontaneous  attention  gives  a  maximum) 
effect  with  a  minimum  of  effort,  while  vol- 
untary attention  gives  a  minimum  effect 
with  a  maximum  of  effort,  and  the  con- 
trast between  the  two  is  sharper  in  pro- 
portion as  the  one  is  more  spontaneous, 
and  the  other'more  voluntary.  Voluntary- 
attention  in  its  highest  degree  is  an  arti- 
ficial state  in  which  with  the  aid  of  facti- 
tioas  emotion  we  keep  up  certain  states, 
of  consciousness  that  are  ever  tending  to 
die  out — for  instance  when  for  politeness" 
sake  we  carry  on  a  wearisome  conversa- 
tion. In  the  case  of  spontaneous  atten- 
tion it  is  our  own  individuality  that  pro- 
duces this  specialization  of  consciousness ; 
in  voluntary  Attention  it  is  an  exceedingly 
limited  portion  of  our  individuality.  Many- 
questions  suggest  themselves  here,  but  as 
I  have  already  said,  I  have  only  to  study 
attention  in  itself.  I  had  simply  to  show 
— and  this  point  I  hope  is  beyond  contro- 
versy— that  attention  is  by  its  origin  of 
the  nature  of  reflex  action ;  that  under  the 
form  of  spontaneous  attention  it  possesses 
the  regularity  of  the  reflex  actions  and 
their  potency  of  action  ;  but  that  in  both 
cases  it  is  a  sensitive  excitation  that  causes 
it,  keeps  it  up,  and  measures  its  intensity. 

Again  we  see  that  the  voluntary  rests- 
upon  the  involuntary  and  derives  from  it 
all  its  force,  and  that,  compared  with  the 
latter,  it  is  very  precarious.  Education  of 
the  power  of  attention  consists  in  the  last 
resort  simply  in  calling  out  and  develop- 
ing these  factitious  emotions,  and  in  striv- 
ing to  make  them  stable  by  repetition ;  but 
as  there  is  no  creation  ex  nihtlo,  they  must 
have  some  basis  however  weak  in  nature. 
To  conclude  as  regards  this  point,  I  con- 
fess that  for  my  part  I  accept  the  paradox 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


of  Helvetius  so  often  disputed,  that  "  all 
intellectual  differences  between  one  man 
and  another  spring  only  from  attention," 
with  the  proviso  that  attention  here  be 
taken  to  mean  spontaneous  attention 
alone :  but  then  the  dictum  amounts  only 
to  this,  that  the  differences  between  men 
are  innate  and  natural. 

Having  shown  how  attention  is  pro- 
duced, we  have  next  to  inquire  how  it  is 
kept  up.  The  difficulty  is  with  voluntary 
attention  only,  for,  as  we  have  seen,  spon- 
taneous attention  explains  itself.  It  is 
continuous  because  the  excitation  which 
•causes  it  is  continuous.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  more  voluntary  it  is,  the  more 
effort  does  attention  require,  and  the  more 
instable  is  it.  The  two  cases  are  in  effect 
a  struggle  between  states  of  consciousness. 
In  the  first  case  (spontaneous  attention) 
a  state  of  consciousness — or  rather  a  group 
of  states  of  consciousness — possesses  such 
intensity  that  no  struggle  against  it  is 
possible,  and  it  assumes  the  mastery  by 
sheer  force.  In  the  second  case  (volun- 
tary attention)  the  group  of  states  of  con- 
sciousness is  not  of  sufficient  intensity  to 
dominate  competing  states,  and  it  gets  the 
upper  hand  only  by  the  aid  of  an  addi- 
tional force,  namely,  by  the  intervention  of 
the  will. 

By  what  mechanism  does  attention  act  ? 
Apparently  by  an  inhibition  of  movements. 
Thus  we  are  brought  back  to  the  problem 
of  inhibition,  more  involved  in  obscurity 
here  than  anywhere  else.  Let  us  see  what 
is  to  be  learned  upon  this  point.  In  the 
first  place  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  repeat 
that  the  brain  is  a  motor  organ,  that  is  to 
say  that  many  of  its  elements  have  for 
their  function  to  produce  motion,  and  that 
there  is  hardly  a  single  state  of  conscious- 
ness which  does  not  contain  in  some  de- 
gree motor  elements.  It  follows  that  every 
state  of  attention  implies  the  existence  of 
these  elements.  "  In  movements  of  the 
limbs  and  trunk  the  feelings  of  operation 
are  very  conspicuous ;  they  are  less  so  in 
the  delicate  adjustments  of  the  eye,  ear, 
-etc.,  and  are  only  inductively  recognizable 
in  the  still  more  delicate  adjustments  of 
attention  and  comprehension,  which  are 
also  acts  of  the  mind  in  more  than  a  met- 
aphorical sense.  .  .  .  The  purest  intellect- 
ual combinations  involve  motor  impulses 
{feelings  of  operation)  quite  as  necessarily 
as  the  combination  of  muscles  in  manipu- 
lation. The  feelings  of  effort  and  relief  in 
seeking  and  finding  our  way  through  an 
obscure  and  tangled  mass  of  ideas — the 
tentatives  of  hypothesis  and  induction — 
are  but  fainter  forms  of  the  feelings  in 


seeking  and  finding  our  way  along-  a  dark 
road  or  thick  forest,  checked  by  failure  and 
enlightened  by  every  successful  step."  * 

Again  every  state  of  consciousness, 
particularly  when  it  is  highly  intense, 
tends  to  pass  into  movements ;  and  so 
soon  as  it  enters  its  motor  phase,  it  loses 
its  intensity,  it  is  in  decline,  it  tends  to 
disappear  out  of  the  consciousness.  But 
a  state  of  consciousness  has  another  way 
of  expending  itself :  it  may  transmit  its 
tension  to  other  states  through  the  mech- 
anism of  association — an  expenditure  in- 
ward, if  you  please,  in  lieu  of  an  expendi- 
ture outward.  But  association  does  not 
proceed  in  one  fashion  only.  In  sponta- 
neous attention  certain  associations  gain 
the  mastery  themselves  alone,  and  by 
themselves  alone,  in  virtue  of  their  own 
intensity.  In  voluntary  attention — of 
which  reflection  is  the  highest  form — we 
are  conscious  of  a  radiation  in  different 
directions ;  and  in  cases  where  we  have 
much  difficulty  in  being  attentive,  the  as- 
sociations which  have  the  upper  hand  are 
those  which  we  do  not  wish,  that  is  to 
say  those  which  are  not  chosen,  not  af- 
firmed as  the  ones  that  ought  to  be  kept 
up. 

By  what  means  then  are  the  weaker 
associations  maintained  ?  In  order  to  get 
as  clear  an  idea  as  may  be  of  the  process, 
let  us  consider  some  analogous  phenom- 
ena, though  of  a  less  abstruse  kind.  A 
man  is  learning  to  play  a  musical  instru- 
ment, or  to  handle  a  tool,  or  better  still, 
a  child  is  learning  to  write.  At  first  he 
makes  many  movements  that  are  quite 
useless  :  he  keeps  moving  his  tongue,  his 
head,  his  legs,  and  only  by  degrees  does  he 
learn  to  hold  his  members  in  subjection, 
and  to  confine  himself  to  the  required 
movements  of  the  hands  and  the  eyes. 

In  voluntary  attention  the  process  is 
similar.  The  associations  which  go  out 
in  all  directions  may  be  likened  to  these 
useless  motions.  The  problem  in  both 
cases  is  to  substitute  a  limited  for  an  un- 
limited association.  For  this  purpose,  we 
eliminate  all  associations  not  helpful  to 
the  end  we  have  in  view.  Properly  speak- 
ing, we  do  not  suppress  states  of  con- 
sciousness, but  we  do  prevent  their  sur- 
viving to  call  forth  like  states  and  to  in- 
crease and  multiply  at  pleasure.  As  every 
one  knows  the  attempt  to  do  this  often 
fails  and  is  always  laborious,  and  while 
we  check  divagation,  the  available  nerve 
force  is  economized  to  our  advantage,  for 


*  G.  H.  Lewes,  "  Problems  of  Life  and  Mind.' 
3d  Series  cont'd,  page  397. 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


to  lessen  purposeless  diffusion  is  to  increase 
useful  concentration. 

Such  is  the  idea  we  may  form  of  this 
obscure  phenomenon  when  we  strive  to 
get  at  its  mechanism,  instead  of  having 
recourse  to  any  supposed  "  faculty "  of 
attention,  which  explains  nothing.  Still 
we  must  admit  with  Ferrier  that  "  on  what 
physiological  basis  this  psychological  fac- 
ulty rests  is  an  extremely  difficult  ques- 
tion, and  is  one  scarcely  capable  of  ex- 
perimental determination."*  We  would 
add  that  the  foregoing  remarks  do  not 
pretend  to  be  an  explication,  but  only  an 
approximation. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  REALM  OF  CAPRICE. 

To  will  is  to  choose  in  order  to  act: 
such  is  for  us  the  formula  of  normal  will. 
The  anomalies  so  far  considered  may  be 
classed  in  two  great  groups :  in  one  im- 
pulsion is  absent,  and  no  tendency  to  act 
appears  (aboulia) ;  in  the  other  a  too 
rapid  or  too  intense  impulsion  prevents 
the  act  of  choice.  Before  we  consider  in- 
stances of  extinction  of  the  will,  where 
there  is  neither  choice  nor  acts,  let  us 
study  a  type  of  character  in  which  either 
the  will  is  not  formed  at  all  or  at  best  ex- 
ists only  in  an  extremely  instable  and  in- 
efficient form.  The  best  instance  of  this 
is  seen  in  the  hysterical  constitution. 
Properly  speaking  we  find  here  rather  a 
constitutional  state  than  a  mere  derange- 
ment. A  simple  irresistible  impulse  is 
like  an  acute  disease  ;  permanent  and  in- 
vincible impulses  are  like  a  chronic  mal- 
ady ;  but  the  hysterical  character  is  a 
diathesis.  It  is  a  state  in  which  the  con- 
ditions of  volition  are  nearly  always  lack- 
ing. From  the  description  recently  given 
by  Dr.  Huchard  of  the  characters  of  hys- 
terical subjects  I  take  the  following  par- 
ticulars bearing  upon  our  subject : 

"  One  prominent  trait  of  their  character  is 
mobility.  From  day  to  day,  from  hour  to 
hour,  from  minute  to  minute  they  pass  with 
incredible  rapidity  from  joy  to  sadness,  from 
laughter  to  tears.  Changeable,  freakish  or 
capricious,  at  one  moment  they  talk  with 
amazing  loquacity,  but  the  next  they  are 
gloomy  and  taciturn,  have  not  a  word  to  say, 
being  lost  in  reverie  or  plunged  in  pro- 
found depression.  Then  they  are  possessed 
by  a  vague  indefinable  feeling  of  sadness  ac- 


*  "  Functions  of  the  Brain."  The  two  para- 
graphs devoted  to  this  question  will  be  read  with 
profit. 


companied  by  a  choking  sensation  and  op- 
pression in  the  epigastric  region.  They  have 
fits  of  sobbing,  and  seek  to  hide  their  tears 
in  solitude ;  again  on  the  other  hand  they  have 
outbursts  of  immoderate  laughter,  without 
sufficient  cause.  '  They  behave,'  says  Ch. 
Richet,  '  like  children  who  oftentimes  can  be 
made  to  laugh  heartily,  while  their  cheeks  are 
still  wet  with  the  tears  they  have  shed.'  . 

'  Their  character  changes  like  the  views  of 
a  kaleidoscope,  a  fact  which  led  Sydenham 
justly  to  remark  that  inconstancy  is  their 
most  constant  trait.  Yesterday  they  were 
joyous,  amiable,  gracious :  to-day  they  are 
ill-humored,  touchy,  irascible,  vexed  by  every 
trifle,  testy  and  snappish,  dissatisfied  with 
everything ;  nothing  interests  them,  they  are 
tired  of  life.  They  conceive  a  strong  antip- 
athy to-day  toward  the  person  they  esteemed 
and  loved  yesterday,  or  vice  -versa,  and  they 
are  as  zealous  to  hate  certain  persons  now  as. 
before  they  were  eager  to  show  them  every 
mark  of  affection. 

"  Sometimes  their  sensibility  is  aroused 
by  a  most  trivial  cause,  while  the  profounder 
emotions  scarcely  touch  it:  they  are  indifferent, 
unmoved  by  the  recital  of  a  real  sorrow,  while 
they  shed  abundant  tears  and  give  themselves 
up  to  despair  on  account  of  some  harmless 
speech  that  they  misinterpret,  or  some  trivial 
pleasantry  that  they  transform  into  an  affront. 
This  moral  ataxy  is  exhibited  even  with  regard 
to  their  nearest  interests.  One  hysterical  sub- 
ject will  be  entirely  indifferent  about  the  con- 
duct of  her  husband ;  another  will  be  heedless 
of  the  danger  that  threatens  her  fortunes.  By 
turns  they  are  gentle  or  violent,  says  Moreau 
of  Tours,  kind  or  cruel ;  impressionable  to 
excess ;  rarely  master  of  the  first  movement 
of  passion ;  incapable  of  resisting  impulses 
of  the  most  opposite  kinds ;  they  show  a  lack 
of  equilibrium  between  the  higher  moral 
faculties — will,  conscience, — and  the  lower 
faculties — instincts,  passions  and  desires. 

"  This  extreme  mobility  in  their  state  of 
mind  and  their  affectional  disposition,  this 
instability  of  character,  this  want  of  fixed- 
ness, this  absence  of  stability  in  their  ideas 
and  volitions,  explains  their  incapacity  to- 
keep  the  attention  long  fixed  upon  a  book,  a 
study  or  a  task  of  any  kind  whatever. 

"  All  these  change.'  :ake  place  with  great 
rapidity.  In  hysterical  subjects  the  impul- 
sions are  not  altogether  free  from  control  by 
the  intelligence,  as  they  are  in  epileptics,  but 
they  are  quickly  followed  by  acts.  This  is 
the  explanation  of  those  sudden  movements 
of  anger  and  indignation,  those  outbursts  of 
enthusiasm,  those  fits  of  desperation ;  the^ 
mad  gayety,  the  sudden  affectionateness  or* 
the  equally  sudden  transports  of  wrath  dur- 
ing which  they  stamp  the  floor  like  spoiled 
children,  break  the  furniture,  and  so  on. 

"  Hysterical  women  are  governed  by  the 
passions.  Nearly  all  the  different  phases  of 
their  character,  of  their  mental  state,  may  be 
summed  up  in  these  words :  they  know  not 
how  to  will,  they  cannot  will,  they  will  not 
will.  Just  because  their  will  is  ever  waver- 


:30 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


ing  and  tottering ;  because  it  is  ever  in  a 
state  of  instable  equilibrium ;  because  it 
turns  like  the  weather,  vane  to  the  slightest 
gust :  for  all  these  reasons  do  hysterical 
subjects  show  such  variableness,  such  incon- 
stancy in  their  desires,  their  ideas  and  their 
affections."* 

Heaving  reproduced  this  faithful  por- 
trait we  may  abridge  our  comments.  The 
reader  has  here  placed  before  his  eyes 
this  state  of  incoordination,  of  broken 
equilibrium,  of  anarchy  and  of  "  moral 
ataxy  ;  "  but  it  still  remains  for  us  to  jus- 
tify the  assertion  made  at  the  beginning 
of  this  chapter,  that  we  see  here  a  consti- 
tutional impotence  of  will  ;  that  the  will 
cannot  exist  here  because  the  conditions 
of  its  existence  are  wanting.  For  clear- 
ness' sake,  I  will  anticipate  what  will  be 
•established  by  proofs  and  in  fuller  detail 
when  I  sum  up  the  conclusions  of  the 
work. 

If  we  take  an  adult  person  endowed 
with  an  average  will,  we  find  that  his  ac- 
tivity (that  is  to  say  his  power  to  produce 
.acts)  is  of  three  degrees.  In  the  lowest 
degree  are  automatic  acts,  simple  or  com- 
posite reflex  actions,  habits ;  next  above 
these  come  the  acts  produced  by  the  feel- 
ings, the  emotions  and  the  passions  ;  high- 
est of  all  the  acts  dictated  by  reason. 
These  last  presuppose  the  other  two,  rest 
upon  them  and  consequently  depend  upon 
them,  though  they  give  to  them  coordina- 
tion and  unity.  Capricious  characters,  of 
which  the  hysterical  character  is  the  type, 
possess  only  the  two  lower  forms  ;  the 
third  is  as  it  were  atrophied.  The  rational 
activity  is  by  nature,  the  very  rare  excep- 
tions apart,  always  the  wea'kest.  It  be- 
comes predominant  only  on  condition  that 
the  ideas  in  the  mind  call  into  action  cer- 
tain feelings  that  are  far  more  apt  than 
ideas  to  pass  into  acts.  As  we  have  seen, 
the  more  abstract  an  idea,  the  weaker  is 
its  motor  tendency.  In  subjects  of  hys- 
teria the  regulative  ideas  either  do  not 
come  into  being  at  all,  or  they  remain 
simply  theoretic  concepts.  It  is  because 
certain  ideas,  as  those  of  utility,  conven- 
ience, duty  and  the  like  remain  in  this 
state  of  theoretic  conceptions,  that  they 
are  not/?//  by  the  individual,  that  they 
produce  in  him  no  affectional  reverbera- 
tion, so  to  speak,  that  they  do  not  enter 
into  his  moral  fiber  but  remain  as  it  were 
a  foreign  element :  hence  they  are  with- 
out action  ;  hence  they  are  practically  as 
though  they  did  not  exist. 

*  Axenfe'.d  et  Huchard,  "Traitd  des  Nevroses  " 
^d  edition,  1881.  pp.  958-971. 


The  individual's  power  of  acting  is 
maimed  and  imperfect.  The  tendency  of 
the  feelings  and  passions  to  pass  into  acts 
is  doubly  strong,  both  in  itself  and  because 
there  is  nothing  above  it  to  hamper  it  or 
to  be  a  counterpoise  to  it.  And  as  it  is 
the  characteristic  of  the  feelings  as  of  the 
reflex  actions  to  go  straight  to  their  ob- 
ject, and  to  have  an  adaptation  in  one 
direction  only — unilateral,  whereas  ra- 
tional adaptation  is  multilateral, — the  de- 
sires, rapidly  conceived  and  immediately 
satisfied,  leave  the  ground  free  for  other 
desires  whether  like  or  opposite,  according 
to  the  ever  changing  whims  of  the  indi- 
vidual. There  is  nothing  but  caprice,  or 
at  most  velleity,  the  merest  simulacrum 
of  volition. 

Still  the  fact  that  desire  proceeds  only 
in  one  direction  and  tends  to  expend  it- 
self unchecked,  does  not  explain  the  insta- 
bility of  the  hysteric  character  nor  its  lack 
of  will.  If  a  desire  that  is  ever  satisfied 
is  ever  recurring,  there  is  stability.  The 
predominance  of  the  affectional  life  does 
not  of  necessity  preclude  will :  indeed  a 
passion  intense,  stable,  consented  to  is  the 
very  basis  of  an  energetic  wilL  Such 
passion  we  find  in  men  of  great  ambition 
— in  the  martyr  whose  faith  is  not  to  be 
shaken ;  in  the  redskin  who  in  the  midst 
of  his  tortures  defies  his  enemies.  We 
must  search  deeper  therefore  for  the  cause 
of  the  instability  found  in  the  hysteric 
character  ;  and  this  cause  cannot  be  any- 
thing else  but  a  state  of  the  individuality, 
that  is,  in  the  last  resort,  of  the  organism. 
We  say  that  will  is  strong  whose  aim, 
whatever  it  be,  is  fixed.  If  circumstances 
change,  means  are  changed  :  adaptations 
are  successively  made,  in  view  of  new  en- 
vironments ;  but  the  center  toward  which 
all  converges  does  not  change.  Its  stabil- 
ity expresses  the  permanency  of  charac- 
ter in  the  individual.  If  the  same  end  is 
ever  chosen,  approved,  the  reason  is  that 
the  individual  continues  to  be  the  same. 
But  suppose  an  organism  with  instable 
functions,  whose  unity — which  is  simply  a 
consensus — is  ever  in  process  of  dissolution 
and  reconstitution  upon  anew  plan  accord- 
ing to  the  sudden  variations  of  the  func- 
tions that  make  it  up :  clearly  in  such  a 
case  choice  can  hardly  exist  and  cannot 
be  enduring  :  there  are  only  velleities  and 
caprices. ,  This  is  what  takes  place  in  sub- 
jects of  hysteria.  The  instability  is  a  fact : 
its  cause  is  very  probably  to  be  found  in 
functional  disorders.  Anaesthesia  of  the 
special  senses  or  of  the  general  sensibility, 
hyperaesthesia,  derangement  of  the  motor 
apparatus,  contraction  of  muscles,  convul- 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


31 


sions,  paralysis,  derangement  of  the  vaso- 
motor,  secretory  and  other  functions — a'll 
of  these  causes  occurring  successively  or 
simultaneously,  keep  the  organism  con- 
stantly in  a  state  of  instable  equilibrium  ; 
and  the  character,  which  is  only  the  psy- 
chic expression  of  the  organism,  varies  in 
the  same  degree.  For  a  stable  character 
to  rest  upon  so  wavering  a  base  were  a 
miracle.  Here  therefore  we  see  the  true 
cause  of  the  impotence  of  will,  and  this 
impotence  is,  as  we  have  said,  constitu- 
tional. 

Certain  facts,  while  they  seem  to  con- 
flict with  this  theory,  only  give  confirma- 
tion to  it.  Hysterical  patients  are  some- 
times possessed  by  a.  fixed  idea,  of  which  it 
is  impossible  to  disabuse  them.  One  re- 
fuses to  eat,  another  to  speak,  a  third  to 
use  her  eyes,  on  the  ground  that  the  work 
of  digestion  or  the  exercise  of  the  vocal  or 
the  visual  organs  would,  as  they  imagine, 
cause  them  pain.  More  frequently  we 
find  the  species  of  paralysis  known  as 
"  psychic  "  or  "  ideal."  The  patient  re- 
mains abed  for  weeks,  months  or  even 
years,  in  the  belief  that  she  is  unable  to 
stand  or  to  walk.  Some  moral  shock,  or 
simply  the  influence  of  some  one  who 
possesses  her  confidence,  or  who  acts 
with  authority  effects  a  cure.  One  be- 
takes herself  to  her  feet  at  the  alarm  of 
fire  ;  another  rises  from  her  bed  and  goes 
to  meet  her  long-absent  brother  ;  a  third 
decides  to  partake  of  food  out  of  fear  of 
her  physician.  Briquet,  in  his  "  Traite 
de  1'Hysterie,"  mentions  several  cases  of 
women  whom  he  cured  by  inspiring  them 
with  faith  in  their  recovery.  We  might 
quote  many  of  those  so-called  miraculous 
•cures  which  have  amused  the  curiosity  of 
the  public  from  the  time  of  the  deacon 
Paris  to  our  own  day. 

The  physiological  causes  of  this  sort  of 
paralysis  are  subject  of  keen  disputation. 
Looking  at  it  from  the  psychological  point 
•of  view,  we  recognize  the  existence  of  a 
fixed  idea  the  result  of  which  is  an  inhibi- 
tion. Now  since  an  idea  does  not  exist 
of  itself,  nor  without  certain  cerebral  con- 
ditions, •  and  since  it  is  only  a  part  of  a 
psychophysiological  whole — the  conscious 
part — it  must  correspond  to  an  abnormal 
:state  of  the  organism,  of  the  motor  cen- 
ters perhaps,  and  thence  it  must  have  its 
origin.  However  that  may  be,  there  is 
no  "  exaltation "  of  the  will,  as  some 
physicians  have  stoutly  contended :  on 
the  contrary  there  is  absence  of  will.  We 
come  again  upon  a  morbid  type  that  we 
have  already  studied,  differing  from  that 
only  in  form  :  it  is  inhibitory.  But  there 


is  no  reaction  springing  direct  from  the 
individual,  against  the  fixed  idea.  It  is  an 
influence  from  without  that  interposes  and 
produces  an  opposite  state  of  conscious- 
ness, with  the  concomitant  feelings  and 
physiological  states.  The  result  of  this  is 
a  strong  impulsion  to  act,  which  sup- 
presses and  takes  the  place  of  the  state  of 
inhibition  :  but  it  is  hardly  a  volition :  at 
best  it  is  a  volition  produced  with  the  as- 
sistance of  others. 

The  conclusion  to  which  we  are  led  by 
these  phenomena  is,  again,  that  the  condi- 
tions of  will  are  wanting,  and  will  cannot 
exist. 


CHAPTER  VI. 
EXTINCTION   OF  THE  WILL. 

THE  cases  of  extinction  of  the  will, 
which  we  are  now  to  study,  are  those  in 
which  there  is  neither  choice  nor  action. 
When  the  whole  psychic  activity  is,  or 
seems  to  be  completely  suspended,  as  in 
deep  sleep,  in  artificial  anaesthesia,  in  coma 
and  similar  states,  there  is  a  return  to  the 
vegetative  life.  Of  this  we  will  not  treat : 
the  will  disappears  because  all  psychic 
life  disappears.  We  have  to  do  here  with 
cases  where  one  form  of  mental  activity 
continues,  though  there  remains  no  possi- 
bility of  choice  followed  by  act.  This  ex- 
tinction of  the  will  is  seen  in  ecstasy  and 
in  somnambulism. 

Authors  distinguish  divers  kinds  of  ec- 
stasy— as  mystic,  morbid,  physiological, 
cataleptic,  somnambulic,  and  so  forth. 
These  distinctions  are  of  no  consequence 
here,  for  at  bottom  the  mental  state  is  the 
same  in  all  the  forms.  Most  ecstasists 
reach  the  ecstatic  condition  naturally,  in 
virtue  of  their  physical  constitution ;  but 
others  assist  nature  by  artificial  processes. 
The  religious  and  philosophical  literature 
of  the  Orient,  India  particularly,  abounds 
in  writings  from  which  it  has  been  possi- 
ble to  compile  a  sort  of  working  manual 
showing  how  to  bring  about  ecstasy.  To 
stand  motionless ;  to  gaze  fixedly  at  the 
sky,  or  a  luminous  object,  on  the  tip  of 
the  nose,  or  on  one's  navel  (after  the  man- 
ner of  the  monks  of  Mt.  Athos  hence  called 
Omphalopsycht) ;  to  repeat  continually 
the  monosyllable  OM  (Brahm)  contemplat- 
ing the  while  the  supreme  being ;  to  "  hold 
in  the  breath,"  i.e.  to  retard  respiration  ; 
"  to  have  no  heed  of  time  or  place  :  "  such 
are  the  acts  which  "  cause  one  to  be  like 


32 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


unto  tne  placid  light  of  a  lamp  set  in  a 
place  where  the  wind  blows  not."  " 

Having  attained  this  state  the  ecstasist 
presents  certain  physical  characters :  now 
he  is  motionless  and  mute  ;  anon  he  inter- 
prets the  vision  that  holds  him  entranced, 
by  speech  and  song  and  gesture.  Seldom 
does  he  quit  the  spot  where  he  stands. 
His  physiognomy  is  expressive,  but  his  eyes 
though  open  see  not.  Sounds  no  longer 
reach  his  sense,  save  in  some  cases  the 
voice  of  a  particular  person.  The  general 
sensibility  is  gone :  he  feels  no  contact : 
neither  pricking  nor  burning  causes  pain. 

What  he  feels  inwardly  the  ecstasist 
alone  may  tell,  and  were  it  not  that  at 
waking  he  retains  a  very  distinct  recollec- 
tion of  it,  the  profane  would  have  to  rely 
on  inductions.  The  speeches  and  the 
writings  of  ecstasists  show  striking  uni- 
formity amid  differences  of  race,  of  belief, 
of  mental  constitution,  of  time  and  of  place. 
Their  mental  state  is  reduced  to  one  im- 
age-idea standing  either  isolated  or  as  the 
center  of  a  single  group  which  engrosses 
the  entire  consciousness  and  maintains  it- 
self there  with  extreme  intensity.  Many 
mystics  have  described  this  state  with 
great  precision,  and  above  all  St.  Theresa. 
I  take  a  few  passages  from  her  autobiog- 
raphy in  order  thus  to  place  before  the 
reader  an  authentic  description  of  ecstasy. 

In  communion  w/th  God  there  are  four 
degrees  pf  "  prayer,"  which  she  compares 
to  four  ways  of  watering  a  garden,  "  the 
first  by  drawing  the  water  by  main  force 
out  of  a  well :  this  is  sheer  hard  work ; 
the  second,  by  drawing  it  by  means  of  a 
norm  (Persian  wheel) — in  this  way  one 
obtains  more  water  with  less  fatigue ;  the 
third,  by  conducting  the  water  from  some 
river  or  brook  ;  the  fourth  and  incompar- 
ably the  easiest  is  an  abundant  fall  of  rain, 
God  himself  undertaking  to  water  the  gar- 
den without  the  slightest  fatigue  on  our 
part." 


'  "  Bhagavad  Gita,"  VI.  The  Buddhist  teach- 
ers say  that  there  are  four  degrees  in  the  contempla- 
tion which  leads  to  the  earthly  nirvdna.  The  first 
degree  is  the  inward  feeling  of  happiness  which 
springs  up  in  the  soul  of  the  ascetic  when  he  de- 
clares himself  to  have  at  length  come  to  distinguish 
the  nature  of  things.  The  yogki  is  then  detached 
from  all  other  desire  save  the  nirvana:  he  still 
exercises  judgment  and  reason  ;  his  intelligence  is 
mil  centered  on  the  nirvdna.,  and  feels  only  the  pleas- 
ure of  inner  satisfaction,  without  judging  of  it,  with- 
out even  understanding  it. 

In  the  third  degree,  the  pleasure  of  satisfaction  is 
gone,  and  the  sage  is  indifferent  about  the  felicity 
which  his  intelligence  still  experiences.  The  sole 
pleasure  that  remains  for  him  is  a  vague  sense  of 
physical  well-being,  obscure  and  all  as  it  is  ;  he  has 
also  lost  all  memory ;  he  has  lost  even  the  sense  of 
his  indifference.  Free  of  all  pleasure  and  of  all  pain, 
he  has  attained  impassibility:  he  is  as  near  to  nir- 
vdna as  he  can  be  in  this  life.  (Barth.  Saint-Hi- 
Uire,  Le  Bouddha  et  sa  Religion,"  pp.  136,  137.) 


In  the  first  two  degrees  there  are  as 
yet  only  the  rudiments  of  ecstasy,  as  she 
observes  in  passing  :  "  Sometimes  while 
reading  I  would  suddenly  experience  a 
sense  of  the  presence  of  God.  It  is  utterly 
impossible  for  me  to  doubt  that  he  was 
within  me  or  that  I  was  quite  lost  in  him. 
This  was  not  a  Vision.  .  .  It  suspends  the 
soul  in  such'  a  way  that  it  seems  to  be 
quite  outside  of  itself.  The  will  loves,  the 
memory  to  me  appears  almost  lost,  the 
understanding  acts  not  at  all,  yet  it  is  not 
lost."  In  a  higher  degree  which  is  "  neither 
a  ravishment  nor  a  spiritual  sleep,"  "  the 
will  alone  acts  and,  not  knowing  how  it  is 
made  captive,  gives  simply  to  God  its  con- 
sent, that  he  may  imprison  it,  in  the  as- 
surance that  it  becomes  the  thrall  of  him 
whom  it  loves.  .  .  .  The  understanding- 
and  memory  come  to  the  assistance  of  the 
will,  to  the  end  it  may  become  more  and 
more  capable  of  enjoying  so  great  a  good. 
Sometimes  however  their  aid  serves  only 
to  disturb  the  will,  in  this  close  union  with 
God.  But  then  the  will,  not  suffering  it- 
self to  be  disturbed  by  their  importunity, 
must  cleave  to  the  delights  and  to  the  pro- 
found calm  which  it  is  enjoying.  The  at- 
tempt to  exercise  these  other  two  powers 
[faculties]  would  lead  the  will  astray  with 
them.  They  are  then  like  doves  which, 
dissatisfied  with  the  food  provided  for 
them  by  their  master  without  any  exertion 
on  their  part,  go  in  search  of  other  food, 
but  which,  after  seeking  in  vain,  make 
haste  to  return  to  the  dove-cote."  In 
this  degree  "  I  look  on  it  as  a  great  advan- 
tage, when  writing,  to  find  myself  in  the 
prayer  of  which  I  am  speaking,  for  I  then 
see  clearly  that  neither  the  expression  nor 
the  thought  comes  from  me ;  and  after  it 
has  been  written,  I  cannot  understand 
how  I  could  ever  have  done  it :  this  hap- 
pens to  me  often." 

In  the  third  degree  we  have  the  ecstasy  : 

"  This  state  is  a  sleep  of  the  powers  [facul- 
ties] wherein,  though  not  altogether  lost  in 
God,  they  nevertheless  know  not  how  they 
operate.  ...  It  is  as  though  one  who  longs 
for  death  were  already  holding  in  Kis  hand 
the  blessed  candle,  and  had  but  to  draw  one 
breath  more  to  attain  the  fulfillment  of  his 
longings.  It  is  for  the  soul  an  agony  full  of 
inexpressible  delights,  wherein  it  feels  itself 
dying  almost  entirely  to  all  the  things  of  the 
world,  and  reposes  with  rapture  in  the  enjoy- 
ment of  its  God.  No  other  terms  do  I  find 
to  portray  or  to  explain  what  I  experience. 
In  this  state  the  soul  knows  not  what  to  do : 
knows  not  whether  it  is  speaking  or  is  silent : 
whether  it  laughs  or  weeps :  it  is  a  glorious 
delirium,  a  heavenly  madness,  a  supremely 
delicious  mode  of  enjoyment.  .  .  .  And  while  it 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


33 


thus  searches  for  its  God,  the  soul  feels  with 
a  very  lively  and  a  very  sweet  pleasure  that 
it  is  fainting  almost  quite  away :  it  falls  into 
a  sort  of  swoon  which  little  by  little  deprives 
the  body  of  respiration  and  of  all  its  strength. 
It  is  unable  without  a  very  laborious  effort 
to  make  the  slightest  movement  of  the  hands. 
The  eyes  close  without  any  purpose  of  the 
soul  to  shut  them ;  and  if  it  keeps  them  open 
it  sees  almost  nothing.  It  is  incapable  of 
reading,  even  if  it  would ;  it  sees  indeed  the 
letters,  but  can  neither  distinguish  them  nor 
assemble  them.  When  spoken  to  it  hears 
the  sound  of  the  speaker's  voice,  but  no  dis- 
tinct words.  So  too  it  receives  no  service  of 
its  senses.  .  .  .  All  its  outer  strength  de- 
parts :  conscious  that  thereby  its  own  strength 
is  increased,  it  can  the  better  enjoy  its  glorious 
privilege.  ...  In  truth,  if  I  am  to  judge  from 
my  own  experience,  this  '  prayer  is  at  first 
of  so  brief  duration  as  not  to  reveal  itself  in 
so  manifest  a  way  by  external  signs  and  the 
suspension  of  the  senses.  It  is  to  be  observed, 
at  least  in  my  opinion,  that  this  suspension 
of  all  the  powers  never  lasts  long :  the  sus- 
pension is  a  protracted  one  that  lasts  half  an 
hour,  and  I  do  not  think  with  me  it  ever 
lasted  so  long.  Still  it  must  be  confessed 
that  it  is  difficult  to  judge  of  this  matter,  see- 
ing that  one  is  at  the  time  deprived  of  feeling. 
I  would  simply  call  attention  to  one  point, 
namely  that  whenever  this  general  suspension 
occurs  hardly  any  time  elapses  before  some 
one  or  other  of  the  powers  [faculties]  comes 
to  itself.  The  will  is  the  faculty  which  per- 
sists best  in  the  divine  union,  but  the  other 
two  soon  begin  to  importune  it.  As  it  is  in 
serenity,  it  brings  them  back  and  suspends 
them  again ;  thus  they  remain  tranquil  for  a 
moment,  and  then  resume  their  natural  life. 
With  these  alternations  the  prayer  may  con- 
tinue and  does  in  fact  continue  for  some 
hours.  .  .  .  But  that  state  of  perfect  ecstasy 
in  which  the  imagination  does  not  wander  to 
any  external  object  is,  I  repeat,  of  short  du- 
ration. I  would  add  that  as  the  powers  come 
to  themselves  only  imperfectly,  they  may  re- 
main in  a  sort  of  delirium  for  some  hours, 
during  which  God  from  time  to  time  enrapt- 
ures them  anew  and  fixes  them  in  himself.  .  .  . 
What  occurs  in  this  secret  union  is  so  hidden 
that  it  is  impossible  to  speak  of  it  more 
clearly.  The  soul  then  sees  itself  to  be  so 
near  to  God,  and  so  strong  is  its  certitude 
touching  that  fact,  that  it  cannot  have  the 
slightest  doubt  that  it  enjoys  such  a  favor, 
all  its  powers  lose  their  natural  activity :  they 
have  no  knowledge  of  their  operations.  .  .  . 
Thus  the  butterfly,  memory,  sees  its  wings 
scorched  here,  and  it  no  longer  can  flit 
hither  and  thither.  The  will  no  doubt  is  oc- 
cupied with  loving,  but  it  understands  not 
how  it  loves.  As  for  the  understanding,  if  it 
understands  at  all  it  does  so  in  a  vay  that 
remains  unknown  to  itself,  nor  can  it  com- 
prehend aught  of  what  it  understands."* 


*  "  Vie  de  Sainte  Therese  ecrite  pur  elle-meme." 
Compare  Plotinus,  "  Enneades,  VI.  ;  Tauler, 
"  Institutio  Christiana." 


I  will  not  follow  St.  Theresa  in  her  de- 
scription of  "rapture" — "that  divine 
eagle  which  with  sudden  impetuosity 
seizes  you  and  carries  you  off."  These 
extracts  suffice,  and  whoever  reads  them 
attentively  will  not  hesitate  to  attribute  to 
them  all  the  value  of  a  good  psychologi- 
cal observation.* 

On  examining  the  detailed  narratives  of 
other  ecstasists,  which  I  cannot  present 
here,  I  find  that  ecstasy  may  be  conven- 
iently for  the  purpose  of  our  work  divided 
into  two  classes.  In  the  first  motor 
power  persists  in  a  certain  degree.  The 
ecstasist  follows  the  several  phases  of  the 
Passion,  the  Nativity  or  some  other  relig- 
ious drama,  reproducing  it  with  appropri- 
ate movements.  There  is  a  series  of 
highly  intense  images  with  one  invariable 
order  of  succession,  being  repeated  again 
and  again  with  perfect  automatism.  Ma- 
rie von  Moerl  and  Louise  Lateau  are  well 
known  instances. 

The  other  class  is  that  of  ecstasy  in  re- 
pose. Here  the  idea  alone  reigns,  com- 
monly an  abstract  or  metaphysical  idea  : 
in  the  case  of  St.  Theresa  and  Plotinus  it 
is  the  idea  of  God ;  for  Buddhists  it  is 
Nirvdna.  All  movements  are  repressed : 
there  is  felt  only  "  a  residuum  of  inward 
agitation."  Observe  in  passing  how  all 
this  agrees  with  what  has  already  been 
said,  that  with  abstract  ideas  the  tendency 
to  movement  is  at  the  minimum,  and  that 
these  ideas  being  representations  of  rep- 
resentations— pure  schematisms — the  mo- 
tor element  grows  weaker  in  the  same  de- 
gree as  the  representative  element. 

But  in  both  cases  the  mental  state  of 
ecstasy  is  a  complete  reversal  of  the  laws 
of  the  normal  mechanism  of  conscious- 
ness. Consciousness  exists  only  on  the 
condition  of  perpetual  change  :  it  is  essen- 
tially discontinuous.  An  homogeneous 
and  continuous  consciousness  is  an  impos- 
sibility. Ecstasy  fulfills  the  conditions  of 


*  St.  Theresa  thus  describes  her  physical  state 
during  her  "  raptures ":  "Oftentimes  my  body 
would  become  so  light  that  it  no  longer  possessed 
any  weight — sometimes  I  no  longer  felt  my  feet 
touching  the  ground.  While  the  body  is  in  rapt- 
ure it  remains  as  though  it  were  dead,  and  often  is 
absolutely  powerless  to  act.  It  retains  whatever 
attitude  it  may  have  assumed  at  the  moment  of 
the  access  ;  thus  it  continues  standing  or  seated,  the 
hands  open  or  closed,  in  a  word  it  continues  in 
the  state  wherein  the  rapture  found  it.  Though 
commonly  a  person  does  not  }ose  feeling,  still  it 
has  happened  to  me  to  be  entiiely  deprived  of  it. 
This  has  occurred  very  rarely  and  it  has  lasted 
only  for  a  very  short  time.  Most  frequently  feel- 
ing remains ;  but  a  person  experiences  an  inde- 
finable disturbance  ;  and  though  it  is  impossible  to 
perform  any  external  act,  one  still  can  hear  a  sort 
of  confused  sounds  coming  from  a  distance.  And 
even  this  kind  of  hearing  ceases  when  the  rapture 
is  in  the  highest  degree. 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


such  consciousness  in  the  highest  degree 
possible,  but  as  St.  Theresa  remarks, 
either  consciousness  disappears,  or  the 
understanding  and  the  memory — that  is 
discontinuity — come  back  at  intervals 
bringing  consciousness  back  with  them. 

This  psychological  anomaly  is  compli- 
cated with  another.  All  states  of  con- 
sciousness tend  to  expend  themselves  in 
proportion  to  their  intensity.  In  the  high- 
est ecstasy  the  expenditure  is  naught,  and 
it  is  owing  to  the  absence  of  the  motor 
phase  that  the  intellectual  intensity  is 
maintained.  The  brain,  which  is  in  the 
normal  state  an  organ  at  once  intellective 
and  motor,  ceases  to  be  a  motor  organ. 
Furthermore,  in  the  intellectual  order  the 
heterogeneous  and  manifold  states  of  con- 
sciousness which  constitute  the  ordinary 
staple  of  life  have  disappeared.  The  sen- 
sations are  suppressed,  and  with  them  the 
associations  they  call  out.  One  single 
representation  absorbs  everything.  If  we 
compare  the  normal  psychic  activity  to 
circulating  capital  that  is  continually  mod- 
ified by  receipts  and  outlays,  then  we  may 
say  that  here  the  capital  is  massed  in  one 
sum ;  concentration  takes  the  place  of  dif- 
fusion, extensive  force,  is  transformed  into 
intensive.  It  is  no  wonder  therefore  if  in 
this  state  of  mental  erethism  the  ecstasist 
seems  to  be  transfigured,  lifted  above  her- 
self. Certainly  the  visions  of  the  rude 
peasant  girl  of  Sanderet  who  saw  a  virgin 
all  of  gold  in  a  silvery  paradise,  bear  but 
little  resemblance  to  those  of  a  Saint  The- 
resa ;  but  every  intelligence  does  its  max- 
imum in  the  moment  of  ecstasy. 

Is  there  any  need  now  of  inquiring  why 
there  is  neither  choice  nor  acts  in  that 
state  ?  How  could  there  be  choice,  seeing 
that  choice  presupposes  the  existence  of 
that  complex  whole,  the  Ego,  which  has 
disappeared  ?  The  personality  being  re- 
duced to  one  idea  or  one  vision,  there 
is  no  state  that  can  be  chosen,  that  is  in- 
corporated with  the  whole,  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  others.  In  a  word  there  is  nothing 
that  can  choose,  nothing  that  can  be 
chosen.  As  well  might  we  suppose  an 
election  without  either  electors  or  candi- 
dates. 

Thus  action  is  nipped  in  the  bud,  utterly 
estopped.  Only  its  elementary  forms  re- 
main, as  the  respiratory  movements,  etc., 
without  which  organic  life  were  impossi- 
ble. We  have  here  a  curious  instance  of 
psychological  correlation  or  antagonism  : 
whatever  one  function  gains  is  lost  by 
some  other :  whatever  thought  gains  is 
lost  by  movement.  In  this  respect  ecstasy 
is  the  opposite  of  the  states  in  which  mo- 


tility  is  predominant,  as  epilepsy,  chorea, 
convulsions,  etc.  In  these  cases  we  see 
maximum  of  movements,  minimum  of 
consciousness  :  in  ecstasy  intensity  of  con- 
sciousness with  minimum  of  movement. 
There  is  at  all  times  only  a  certain  sum  of 
nervous  and  psychic  force  available  :  if 
this  is  monopolized  by  one  function, 
the  other  functions  are  impoverished. 
Whether  the  excess  shall  be  on  the  one 
side  or  on  the  other  depends  on  the  nature 
of  the  individual. 

Having  studied  extinction  of  the  will  in 
its  highest  phase,  we  may  remark  that  we 
find  in  the  act  of  contemplation,  of  pro- 
found reflection,  modified  and  minor 
forms  of  the  same  phenomenon.  The  un- 
fitness  of  contemplative  minds  for  action 
has  its  physiological  and  psychological 
reasons,  and  these  are  explained  to  us  by 
the  state  of  ecstasy. 

It  is  of  equal  interest  to  the  psycholo- 
gist and  to  the  physiologist  to  know  what 
it  is  that  produces  abolition  of  conscious- 
ness in  somnambulism  whether  natural 
or  artificially  induced,  and  from  what  or- 
ganic conditions  it  results.  But  though 
the  subject  has  been  a  matter  of  eager 
research  for  some  years,  we  have  nothing 
to  offer  but  theories,  and  the  reader  may 
choose  between  several  hypotheses. 
Some  authors,  as  Schneider  and  Berger, 
regard  it  as  a  result  of  "  expectant  atten- 
tion "  producing  a  unilateral  and  abnor- 
mal concentration  of  consciousness. 
Preyer  holds  it  to  be  a  special  case  com- 
ing under  his  theory  of  sleep.  Other 
authors,  as  Rumpf,  favor  the  theory  of 
reflex  changes  in  the  cerebral  circulation — 
hyperasmia  and  anaemia  in  the  surface  of 
the  hemispheres  of  the  brain.  Heiden- 
hain  who  opposes  this  last  theory  refers 
hypnotism  to  an  inhibiting  action.  There 
occurs,  he  says,  a,  suspension  of  the  activ- 
ity of  the  cortical  nerve  cells,  probably 
resulting  from  a  change  in  their  molecu- 
lar arrangement,  and  in  this  way  the  func- 
tional movement  of  the  gray  matter  is  in- 
terrupted. This  hypothesis  seems  to  be 
most  in  favor,  and  since  it  is,  at  least  from 
the  psychological  standpoint,  simply  a 
statement  of  fact,  we  may  adopt  it. 

There  is  no  need  to  describe  a  state  so 
many  times  described  before,  and  that  so 
carefully.  We  would  merely  remark  that 
the  terms  somnambulism,  hypnotism  and 
their  analogues  do  not  designate  a  state 
identical  in  all  individuals  and  in  every 
case.  This  state  varies  in  the  same  indi- 
vidual from  simple  drowsiness  to  profound 
stupor ;  between  one  individual  and 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


35 


an«ther  it  varies  according  to  their  re- 
spective constitutions,*  pathological  con- 
ditions, etc.  It  would  therefore  be  illogi- 
cal to  affirm  that  there  is  always  abolition 
of  the  will  power.  As  we  shall  see, 
some  cases  are  very  doubtful. 

Take  first  hypnotism  in  the  form  des- 
ignated by  many  authors  Lethargic.  The 
mental  inertia  here  is  absolute ;  conscious- 
ness is  utterly  gone ;  the  reflex  actions  are 
in  excess — an  excess  which  always  keeps 
pace  with  the  decline  of  the  higher  activ- 
ity. At  a  word  from  the  operator,  the 
hypnotized  subject  rises,  walks,  sits  down, 
sees  absent  persons,  goes  on  a  journey, 
describes  the  landscape,  and  so  on.  The 
only  will,  as  we  say,  is  that  of  the  oper- 
ator. The  meaning  of  this  expressed  in 
more  precise  terms,  is :  In  the  vacant  field 
of  consciousness  a  state  is  called  up  ;  and 
since  states  of  consciousness  tend  to  action, 
whether  immediately  or  after  having  called 
forth  associations,  an  act  follows.  The 
passage  to  action  is  here  all  the  easier 
because  there  is  nothing  that  hinders  it, 
neither  power  of  inhibition  nor  an  antag- 
onistic state,  the  idea  suggested  by  the 
operator  having  the  sole  dominion  in  the 
slumbering  consciousness.  Other  phe- 
nomena apparently  more  anomalous  are 
•explained  in  the  same  way.  We  know 
that  by  giving  to  the  members  of  the  hyp- 
notized subject  certain  postures  we  can 
awaken  in  him  the  emotion  of  pride,  ter- 
ror, lowliness,  devotion,  etc. ;  if  we  place 
"him  in  the  position  for  climbing,  he  makes 
as  though  he  were  going  up  a  ladder ;  if 
we  put  in  his  hands  any  instrument  he 
has  been  wont  to  employ,  he  goes  to  work 
with  it.  Plainly  the  position  given  to  the 
members  awakens  in  the  cerebral  centers 
the  corresponding  states  of  consciousness 
with  which  they  have  become  associated 
by  much  repetition.  The  idea,  once  it  is 
•awakened,  is  in  the  same  condition  as  one 
coming  from  the  direct  order  or  sugges- 
tion of  the  operator.  All  these  cases  there- 
fore are  reducible  to  the  same  formula : 
the  hypnotized  subject  is  an  automaton 
that  is  made  to  act  according  to  the  nature 
of  his  organization.  There  is  absolute 
abolition  of  will,  the  conscious  personality 
being  reduced  to  one  single  state  which  is 
neither  chosen  nor  rejected,  but  suffered, 
imposed. 

The  automatism  is  spontaneous  in  nat- 
ural somnambulism ;  in  other  words,  it 
has  for  its  antecedent  some  cerebral  state, 
and  that  in  turn  has  for  its  antecedent 
some  special  excitation  in  the  organism. 
Often  the  automatism  is  of  a  high  order : 
the  series  of  states  of  consciousness  called 


out  is  long  and  each  term  of  the  series  is 
complex.  As  its  type  we  may  cite  the 
singer  whose  history  is  given  by  Mesnet. 
If  a  cane  were  offered  to  him  he  would 
take  it  to  be  a  musket,  his  recollections  of 
army  life  coming  back  to  him  ;  he  would 
load  his  weapon,  lie  prone  upon  the  ground, 
take  aim  and  fire.  Give  him  a  roll  of  pa- 
per, and  his  recollection  of  his  present  call- 
ing were  called  forth ;  he  would  open  the 
roll  and  sing  at  the  top  of  his  voice.*  But 
the  unvarying  repetition  of  the  same  acts 
in  the  same  order  in  each  paroxysm  gives 
to  all  these  phenomena  a  very  definite  char- 
acter of  automatism  from  which  all  will 
power  is  eliminated. 

Some  cases  however  are  doubtful.  Bur- 
dach  tells  of  "  a  very  fine  ode  "  that  was 
composed  in  the  somnambulic  state.  The 
story  has  often  been  told  of  the  abb6  who 
in  preparing  a  sermon  corrected  and 
pruned  his  sentences,  changed  the  places 
of  epithets,  etc.  Again,  a  man  made  sun- 
dry attempts  at  suicide  and  each  time 
tried  different  means.  Facts  of  this  kind 
are  so  numerous  that,  even  making  allow- 
ance for  credulity  and  exaggeration,  it  is 
impossible  to  reject  them  all. 

It  might  be  said  that  such  acts  involve 
comparison  followed  by  a  choice,  a  pref- 
erence— in  other  words  a  volition  :  and 
hence  that  we  have  here  will  power,  that 
is  a  true  reaction  of  the  individual,  faint, 
indeed,  obscure,  limited,  but  active. 

But  we  may  also  hold  that  automatism 
is  of  itself  sufficient.  For  is  it  not  a  rec- 
ognized truth  that  in  the  normal  state  the 
intellectual  work  is  often  automatic,  and 
all  the  more  valuable  on  that  account? 
Is  not  what  the  poets  call  inspiration  an 
involuntary  and  almost  unconscious  sort 
of  brain  work — at  least  is  it  not  conscious 
only  in  its  results  ?  We  read  our  own 
writings  over  again,  and  our  corrections 
are  often  spontaneous,  that  is  to  say,  the 
movement  of  thought  brings  a  new  asso- 
ciation of  words  and  ideas  which  is 
immediately  substituted  for  the  other. 
Hence  it  may  be  that  the  individual  as 
one  that  chooses  and  prefers  is  here  of  no 
account.  Examining  the  matter  more 
minutely,  we  may  hold  that  all  these  cases 
are  not  strictly  comparable  :  if  to  compose 
an  ode  automatism  suffices,  it  does  not 
suffice  for  correcting  it ;  in  the  latter  case 
there  is  choice,  however  rapid,  however 
insignificant  we  may  suppose  it  to  be.  In- 
stead of  a  zero  of  will  we  should  have  a 
minimum  of  will.  This  opinion  is  reduci- 


*  "  De  rAutomatisme  de  la  M&noireetdu  Souve- 
nir dans  le  Somnambulisme  Pathologique."  Paris, 
1874. 


oti 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


ble  to  the  first,  and  differs  from  it  only  by 
a  hair's  breadth. 

The  reader  will  choose  between  these 
two  interpretations.  I  pass  now  to  cases 
in  which  the  data  are  more  definitely  as- 
certained. We  find  among  hypnotized 
subjects  instances  of  resistance.  An  or- 
der is  not  obeyed,  a  suggestion  is  not  fol- 
lowed immediately.  The  mesmerists  of 
the  last  century  recommended  the  opera- 
tor to  assume  the  tone  of  authority  and 
advised  the  subject  to  practice  trust,  con- 
fidence, which  produce  assent  and  pre- 
vent resistance. 

"  While  in  the  state  of  somnambulism 
B.  performed  certain  acts  at  the  word  of 
command,  but  others  she  refused  to  per- 
form. Usually  she  would  not  read  though 
we  are  confident  she  could  see,  despite 
the  apparent  occlusion  of  her  eyelids. 
When  her  hands  were  placed  in  the  atti- 
tude of  prayer,  her  mind  was  impressed 
accordingly.  Asked  what  she  was  doing, 
she  said  she  was  praying  to  the  Blessed 
Virgin,  but  that  she  did  not  see  her.  So 
long  as  her  hands  remained  in  the  same 
position,  she  continued  her  prayer,  and 
showed  displeasure  if  any  one  sought  to 
distract  her.  When  the  position  of  the 
hands  wa»  changed,  the  praying  ceased 
immediately.  However  exempt  it  may 
be  from  will  action,  the  praying  is  in  this 
case  in  some  sort  under  the  control  of  the 
reason,  for  the  subject  shows  a  dislike  to 
being  distracted,  and  is  able  to  argue  with 
any  one  who  would  interrupt  her  prayer."  * 
One  of  Richer 's  subjects  readily  allowed 
himself  to  be  metamorphosed  into  an  of- 
ficer, a  sailor,  etc.,  but  he  refused  with  tears 
in  his  eyes  to  be  transformed  into  a  priest. 
This  was  sufficiently  explained  by  the 
man's  habits  and  the  atmosphere  in  which 
he  had  lived. 

Hence  there  are  cases  in  which  two 
states  co-exist — one  produced  by  outside 
influences,  the  other  by  influences  from 
within.  We  know  what  the  automatic 
power  of  the  former  is.  But  in  the  other 
state  this  is  effaced  by  a  contrary  state  : 
there  is  here  something  resembling  inhi- 
bition. But  the  inhibition  is  so  weak  that 
commonly  it  succumbs  before  repeated 
attacks :  and  it  is  so  vague  that  we  cannot 
say  what  its  nature  is.  Is  it  not  simply  an 
antagonistic  state  of  consciousness  awak- 
ened by  the  very  suggestion,  so  that  it 
would  all  amount  to  the  co-existence  of 
two  contrary  states  of  consciousness  ?  Or 
is  the  case  more  complex,  and  must  we 


*  P.  Richer,  "  fitude  sur  1'Hyst^ro-fipilepsie," 
pp.  426,  427. 


say  that  it  represents  the  sum  of  the  ten- 
dencies still  existing  in  the  individual,  and 
some  residue  of  that  which  constitutes 
his  character  ?  If  we  accept  Heidenhain's 
theory  we  must  recognize  in  the  so  called 
lethargic  state  a  complete  arrest  of  func- 
tional activity ;  the  order  or  the  suggestion 
of  the  operator  would  set  in  action  an  ex- 
ceedingly limited  number  of  nerve  ele- 
ments in  the  cortex ;  but  in  the  state  of 
resistance  we  should  see  awakening  from 
their  sleep  some  of  those  elements  which 
in  the  normal  state  constitute  the  physio- 
logical and  psychological  basis  of  the  in- 
dividuality, being  the  synthetic  expression 
of  the  organism.  It  must  be  confessed 
that,  even  admitting  this  second  hypothe- 
sis, all  that  would  remain  of  will  power,  of 
the  individual's  power  of  reacting  accord- 
ing to  his  nature,  would  be  an  embryo,  a 
power  so  stripped  of  efficacity  that  it  is 
hardly  to  be  called  will. 

Again  it  may  be  remarked  that  if  it  is 
difficult  for  the  observer  to  say  what 
power  of  reacting  persists  in  the  person 
who  resists,  the  person  himself  is  no  better 
judge.  "  A  close  analysis  of  the  phenom- 
ena such  as  can  be  made  by  educated, 
intelligent  men  submitting  to  the  action 
of  animal  magnetism,  proves  how  difficult 
it  is  even  for  the  magnetized  patient  to 
make  sure  that  he  is  not  simulating.  To 
make  these  observations,  the  sleep  should 
not  be  very  profound.  In  the  period  of 
engourdissement  consciousness  is  retained, 
but  nevertheless  there  is  a  very  plain  au- 
tomatism." A  physician  of  Breslau  told 
Heidenhain  that  magnetization  made  no 
impression  on  him  ;  yet  after  he  had  been 
brought  into  the  state  of  engour dissentient, 
he  was  unable  to  pronounce  a  single  word. 
On  being  awakened,  he  declared  that  he 
could  have  spoken  easily  enough,  and 
that  if  he  had  said  nothing,  it  was  because 
he  had  preferred  not  to  speak.  Put  in  the 
state  of  engourdissement  again  by  a  few 
passes,  he  was  again  unable  to  speak.  Once 
more  he  was  awakened,  and  had  to  con- 
fess that  if  he  had  not  spoken  the  reason 
was  that  he  could  not  speak.  A  friend  of 
mine  having  been  engourdi,  and  not  quite 
put  to  sleep,  observed  closely  this  phe- 
nomenon of  impotence  coincident  with  the 
illusion  of  the  possession  of  power.  When 
I  indicate  to  him  a  movement  to  be  per- 
formed, he  always  executes  it,  though  be- 
fore being  magnetized  he  was  quite  de- 
termined to  resist.  This  he  has  the 
greatest  difficulty  in  accounting  for  after 
awakening.  '  Certainly,'  he  says,  '  I  could 
resist,  but  I  have  not  the  will  to  do  so.' 
Sometimes  he  is  tempted  to  believe  that 


THE  DISEASES  OF   THE  WILL. 


37 


he  is  simulating.  '  When  I  am  dozing,' 
he  says,  '  I  simulate  automatism  though  I 
could,  as  it  seems  to  me,  act  otherwise. 
I  begin  with  the  firm  resolve  not  to  simu- 
late, but  in  spite  of  me  when  sleep  begins 
it  seems  to  me  that  I  simulate.'  Of  course 
this  sort  of  simulation  of  a  phenomenon 
is  absolutely  identical  with  its  reality. 
Automatism  is  demonstrated  by  the  very 
fact  that  perfectly  honest  subjects  are  un- 
able to  act  otherwise  than  as  automata. 
It  is  of  little  consequence  that  they  im- 
agine that  they  are  able  to  resist.  They 
do  not  resist.  That  is  the  fact  that  must 
be  taken  into  consideration,  and  not  the 
illusion  that  possesses  them  that  they  have 
the  power  of  resistance."* 

Still  this  power  of  resistance,  weak 
though  it  be,  is  not  equal  to  zero :  it  is  a 
last  survival  of  the  individual  reaction  ex- 
ceedingly reduced  ;  it  is  on  the  confine  of 
nullity  but  does  not  pass  over.  The  illu- 
sion of  this  feeble  power  of  inhibition  must 
answer  to  some  equally  precarious  physi- 
ological state.  In  short  the  state  of  som- 
nambulism whether  natural  or  induced 
may  justly  be  regarded  as  a  state  of  abo- 
lition of  the  will.  Exceptions  are  rare  and 
obscure,  but  they  bring  their  own  measure 
of  instruction".  They  prove  once  again 
that  volition  is  not  an  invariable  quantity, 
but  that  it  diminishes  till  the  point  is 
reached  where  we  may  with  equally  good 
reason  either  affirm  or  deny  its  existence. 

I  will  mention  in  passing  a  fact  that 
hardly  belongs  to  the  pathology  of  the  will 
but  which  furnishes  matter  for  reflection. 
Certain  hypnotized  subjects  may  be  com- 
manded to  perform  an  action  at  some  fu- 
ture time,  at  a  given  time  in  the  same 
day,  or  even  at  a  later  time,  say  eight  or 
ten  days  hence.  After  they  have  come 
to,  they  execute  the  command  at  the  pre- 
scribed time,  on  the  appointed  day,  com- 
monly saying  that  they  know  not  why. 
In  some  curious  instances  these  persons 
give  specious  reasons  to  explain  their  con- 
duct, to  justify  this  act  which  does  not 
spring  from  their  own  spontaneity,  but  is 
imposed  upon  them  though  they  know  it 
not.  I  cite  a  case  that  came  untier  my 
own  observation.  A  young  man  at  10 
o'clock  ordered  his  mistress  who  was  in 
the  hypnotic  state  to  leave  him  at  three 
o'clock  in  the  morning ;  then  he  restored 
her  to  the  normal  state.  Toward  three 
o'clock  she  awoke,  made  ready  to  go,  and 
though  he  begged  her  to  stay,  she  found 
reasons  to  excuse  and  justify  her  going  at 


*  Ch.   Richet,  in  the   "  Revue    Philosophique," 
5883. 


that  unseasonable  hour.  "  Our  illusion  of 
free  will,"  says  Spinoza,  "  is  only  ignorance 
of  the  motives  that  lead  us  to  act."  Do 
not  facts  of  this  kind  support  the  dic- 
tum?* 


CHAPTER  VII. 


CONCLUSION. 


HAVING  examined  the  different  morbid 
types,  let  us  now  see  whether  we  can  dis- 
cover a  law  which  shall  sum  up  the  pathol- 
ogy of  the  will  and  throw  some  light 
upon  the  normal  state. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  volition  alone  ex- 
ists, that  is  to  say  a  choice  followed  by 
acts.  Certain  conditions  are  requisite  to 
produce  a  volition.  A  lack  of  impulsion 
or  of  inhibition,  an  excess  of  automatic  ac- 
tivity, of  a  tendency,  of  an  appetite,  a  fixed 
idea,  all  these  may  prevent  volition  for  a 
moment,  an  hour,  a  day,  a  period  of  one's 
life.  The  sum  of  these  necessary  and  suf- 
ficient conditions  may  be  called  will. 
With  respect  to  volition  the  will  is  a  cause, 
though  it  is  itself  a  sum  of  effects,  a  re- 
sultant varying  with  its  elements.  This 
has  been  proved  by  pathology. 

These  elements,  briefly  stated,  are  as 
follows  :  i .  Tendencies  toward  action  (or 
inhibition)  resulting  from  the  circum- 
stances, the  surroundings,  the  counsels,  the 
education  that  influence  a  person.  In  a 
word  all  tendencies  which  are  the  effect 
of  external  causes. 

2.  Character,  the  principal  element, 
which  is  the  effect  of  interior  causes,  and 
not  an  entity  but  the  resultant  of  the  in- 
numerable infinitesimal  states  and  tenden- 
cies of  all  the  anatomical  elements  that 
constitute  a  given  organism.  Or  briefly, 
character  is  for  us  the  psychological  ex- 
pression of  a  given  organism,  deriving 
from  it  its  proper  complexion,  its  special 
tone  and  its  relative  permanence.  It  is 
the  ultimate  stratum  whereon  rests  the 
possibility  of  will  and  which  makes  the 
will  strong  or  weak,  intermittent,  average 
or  extraordinary. 

If  now  we  consider  the  will  not  in  its 
constituent  elements  but  in  the  phases 
through  which  it  passes  in  its  evolution, 
we  see  that  volition  is  the  final  term  in  a 
progressive  series  whereof  simple  reflex 
action  is  the  first  step.  It  is  the  highest 
form  of  activity — activity  being  understood 


*  Many  similar  facts  are  recorded  in  Ch.  Richet's 
article   already  quoted,  "  Rev.     Philos.,"   March, 


38 


THE  DISEASES  OF  TBE  WILL. 


in  the  precise  sense  of  power  to  produce 
acts,  power  of  reaction. 

The  will  has  for  its  basis  a  legacy  com- 
ing down  from  generations  innumerable, 
and  registered  in  the  organism,  namely 
primordial  automatic  activity,  which  is 
almost  invariable,  and  quite  unconscious, 
although  in  the  distant  past  it  must  have 
been  accompanied  by  a  rudiment  of  con- 
sciousness which  later  faded  away,  in 
proportion  as  coordination,  growing  more 
perfect,  became  organic  in  the  species. 

Upon  this  basis  rests  the  conscious  and 
individual  activity  of  the  appetites,  de- 
sires, feelings,  passions,  whose  coordina- 
tion is  more  complex  and  far  less  stable. 

Higher  still  we  have  ideomotor  activity 
whicn  in  its  extreme  manifestations  at- 
tains a  coordination  at  once  very  stable 
and  very  complex :  this  is  perfect  volition. 

It  may  therefore  be  said  that  perfect 
volition  has  for  its  coordination  a  hierar- 
chic coordination,  that  is  to  say,  it  is  not 
enough  that  reflex  actions  be  coordinated 
with  reflex  actions,  rational  tendencies 
with  rational  tendencies,  but  there  must 
be  coordination  between  these  different 
groups — coordination  with  subordination, 
so  that  all  shall  converge  toward  a  single 
point,  namely  the  end  to  be  attained. 
Let  the  reader  recall  the  morbid  cases 
already  cited,  and  in  particular  those  ir- 
resistible impulses  which  in  themselves 
represent  almost  the  entire  pathology  of 
the  will,  and  he  will  see  that  they  are  all 
reducible  to  this  formula :  Absence  of 
hierarchic  coordination,  independent,  ir- 
regular, isolated,  anarchic  action. 

Hence  whether  we  regard  the  will  in 
its  constituent  elements  or  in  the  succes- 
sive phases  of  its  genesis — and  the  two 
aspects  are  inseparable, — we  see  that  its 
ultimate  result,  volition,  is  not  a  phenom- 
enon supervening  we  know  not  whence, 
but  that  it  has  its  root  deep  in  the  nature 
of  the  individual,  nay  beyond  the  individ- 
ual in  the  species  and  in  all  species.  It 
comes  not  from  above  but  from  below ; 
it  is  a  sublimation  of  the  lower  elements. 
Volition  may  be  compared  to  the  key- 
stone of  an  arch.  To  that  stone  the  arch 
owes  its  strength,  even  its  existence ; 
nevertheless  this  stone  derives  its  power 
from  the  other  stones  that  support  it  and 
press  it  on  all  sides,  as  it  in  turn  presses 
them  and  gives  them  stability. 

These  preliminary  observations  were 
requisite  for  an  understanding  of  the  law 
which  governs  overthrow  of  the  will ;  for 
if  the  foregoing  considerations  be  just, 
then  since  dissolution  always  pursues  a 
course  the  reverse  of  that  followed  by  ev- 


olution, it  follows  that  the  more  complex 
will  manifestations  must  disappear  before 
the  more  simple  and  the  more  simple  be- 
fore automatism.  To  express  the  law  in 
its  exact  form,  and  regarding  volition  not 
as  a  phenomenon  sui generis  but  as  the 
highest  manifestation  of  individual  activ- 
ity, we  should  say  that  dissolution  pro- 
ceeds in  a  retrograde  direction  from  the 
more  voluntary  and  the  more  complex  to 
the  less  voluntary  and  the  more  simple, 
i.e.  toward  automatism.  We  have  now  to 
show  that  this  law  is  confirmed  by  facts, 
and  here  we  have  only  to  select  our 
materials. 

In  1868  Hughlings  Jackson,  while  en- 
gaged in  the  study  of  certain  disorders  of 
the  nervous  system,  observed,  for  the 
first  time  as  I  believe,  that  the  more  vol- 
untary and  the  more  specialized  move- 
ments and  faculties  are  the  first  to  be  af- 
fected, and  that  in  a  greater  degree  than 
the  others.*  This  "  principle  of  dissolu- 
tion," or  of  "  reduction  to  a  more  auto- 
matic state  "  was  proposed  by  Dr.  Jack- 
son as  the  correlative  of  Herbert  Spen- 
cer's doctrines  touching  the  evolution  of 
the  nervous  system.  He  takes  a  very 
simple  case,  that  of  hemiplegia  from 
lesion  of  the  corpus  striatum.  A  clot  of 
blood  here  makes  an  experiment  for  us. 
The  patient,  whose  face,  tongue,  one  arm 
and  one  leg  are  paralyzed,  has  lost  the 
more  voluntary  movements  of  a  portion 
of  his  body,  without  losing  the  more  auto- 
matic movements.  The  study  of  cases 
of  hemiplegia,  says  he,f  proves  that  the 
external  parts  which  suffer  most  are  those 
which  psychologically  speaking  are  most 
controlled  by  the  will,  and  which  physiolog- 
ically speaking  imply  the  greatest  num- 
ber of  different  movements,  produced 
with  the  greatest  number  of  different  in- 
tervals. If  the  lesion  be  serious  and  if  it 
affect  not  only  the  more  voluntary  parts, 
as  face,  arms,  legs,  but  also  those  which 
are  less  voluntary,  as  when  the  patient 
loses  the  power  of  certain  movements  of 
the  eyes,  the  head  and  one  side  of  the 
chest,  we  find  that  the  more  voluntary 
parts  are  much  more  gravely  paralyzed 
than  the  others. 

So  too  Ferrier  observes  \  that  the  gen- 
eral destruction  of  the  motor  region  in  the 
cortex,  as  of  the  corpus  striatum,  produces 
the  same  relative  disorder  of  the  different 
movements,  those  movements  being  most 


*  "  Clinical  and  Physiological  Researches  on  the- 
Nervous  System."  London,  1875. 

t "  Clinical  and  Physiological  Researches  on  the 
Nervous  System." 

t  "  Localization  of  Diseases  of  the  Brain." 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


39 


affected  and  paralyzed  which  are  most 
under  the  influence  of  the  will,  at  least 
after  the  first  shock  has  passed  away. 
Facial  paralysis  has  its  seat  especially  in 
the  inferior  facial  region,  and  affects  the 
more  independent  movements,  the  frontal 
and  the  orbicular  muscles  being  only 
slightly  affected.  The  movements  of  the 
legs  are  less  affected  than  those  of  the 
arm,  and  those  of  the  arm  less  than  those 
of  the  hand. 

The  same  author  draws  a  distinction 
between  the  different  kinds  of  movements 
and  their  respective  centers — those  which 
imply  consciousness  (and  which  are  called 
voluntary  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  word), 
and  those  which  are  described  as  automat- 
ic, instinctive,  responsive  (including  mo- 
tor-adaptations of  the  equilibrium  and  of 
motor-coordination,  and  the  instinctive  ex- 
pression of  the  emotions)  which  are  more 
or  less  perfectly  organized  in  the  centers 
underlying  the  cortex.  And  he  says  that 
the  latter  possess  a  relative  independence 
which  is  at  its  maximum  in  the  lower  ver- 
tebrates (the  frog,  the  pigeon)  and  at  the 
minimum  in  the  monkey  and  in  man.  He 
thinks  that  in  animals  whose  motor  facul- 
ties do  not  seem  to  suffer  much  from  de- 
structive lesion  of  the  nervous  centers, 
those  movements  are  paralyzed  which 
imply  consciousness  (voluntary  move- 
ments) and  which  are  not  automatically 
organized.  This,  he  adds,  is  proved  by 
the  researches  made  by  Goltz.  That  au- 
thor has  shown  that  though  the  paw  of  a 
dog  is  not  absolutely  paralyzed  as  an  or- 
gan of  locomotion  by  lesion  of  the  cortex, 
it  is  absolutely  paralyzed  in  so  far  as  it 
serves  as  a  hand  and  is  employed  as  such. 
This  observation  is  of  prime  importance 
for  us,  as  showing  that  when  an  organ  is 
adapted  both  for  locomotion  and  prehen- 
sion, the  former  function  persists,  though 
impaired,  while  the  latter  function,  which 
is  the  more  delicate  one,  disappears.* 

The  instability  of  the  voluntary,  com- 
plex, higher  action  as  compared  with  the 
automatic,  simple,  lower  action  is  seen 
again  in  a  progressive  form  in  general 
paralysis  of  the  insane.  "  The  earliest 
imperfections  of  the  motor  power,"  says 
Foville,  "  those  which  betray  themselves 


*  Ferriar,  "  Localization,"  etc.  From  Goltz'sex- 
periments  it  appears  that  if  the  lesion  is  in  the  left 
brain,  then  in  all  movements  in  which  the  dog 


was  wont  to  employ  the  fore  paw  as  a  hand,  he 
gives  up  the  use  of  the  right  paw.  Thus  he  will 
hold  a  bone  with  the  left  fore  paw  only,  and  will 


employ  only  that  paw  in  scratching  the  ground,  or 
in  touching  his  wound.  If  the  dog  has  been  trained 
to  give  his  paw,  he  will,  after  mutilation,  give  only 
the  left  paw.  (Goltz,  in  "  Diet.  Encycl.  des  Sci. 
M^d.,"  art.  NERVE--X.) 


by  a  beginning,  and  hardly  a  beginning 
even  of  a  break  in  the  harmony  of  the 
muscle  contractions,  are  the  more  readily 
appreciated  because  they  concern  the  more 
delicate  movements,  and  those  which  re- 
quire the  greatest  precision  and  the  great- 
est perfection.  Hence  it  is  not  surprising 
that  the  delicate  muscular  movements 
which  go  to  produce  phonation  should  be 
the  first  affected."  It  is  known  that  an 
impediment  of  speech  is  one  of  the  first 
symptoms  of  this  malady.  Though  at 
first  this  is  so  slight  that  only  a  practiced 
ear  can  detect  it,  the  defect  of  pronunci- 
ation increases  steadily  and  ends  at  last 
in  unintelligible  babble.  "  The  muscles 
which  aid  in  articulation  lose  all  their  har- 
mony of  action  ;  they  are  able  to  contract 
only  with  an  effort ;  the  words  spoken 
cannot  be  understood.  In  the  several 
members  lesions  of  the  motility  at  first 
affect  only  the  movements  that  require 
the  greatest  precision.  The  patient  can 
walk  long  distances  and  can  use  the  arm 
in  work  that  only  calls  for  general  move- 
ments ;  but  he  is  unable  to  perform  any 
of  the  minor  and  more  delicate  operations 
of  the  fingers  without  some  degree  of  tre- 
mor, and  he  has  to  try  again  and  again. 
The  defect  is  noticed  when  the  man  is 
asked  to  pick  up  a  pin  from  the  ground, 
to  wind  his  watch,  etc.  Artisans  accus- 
tomed in  their  trade  to  work  of  great 
exactitude  are  incapacitated  far  more 
quickly  than  those  whose  tasks  require 
but  little  precision.  In  writing  the* pen  is 
held  with  a  degree  of  indecision  which 
manifests  itself  in  the  more  or  less  irregu- 
lar form  of  the  letters.  And  as  the  dis- 
ease progresses  the  handwriting  becomes 
more  tremulous  and  irregular,  so  that  by 
comparing  a  series  of  letters  written  at  dif- 
ferent periods,  we  may  trace  the  progress 
of  the  malady,  till  in  the  end  the  patient 
becomes  quite  unable  to  write. 

"  At  a  later  stage  the  vacillation  of  the 
superior  members  is  seen  even  in  their 
general  movements  :  owing  to  tremulous- 
ness  and  feebleness  of  the  muscles  of  the 
arm  the  patient  is  unable  to  pass  food  to 
his  mouth,  to  take  out  his  handkerchief  or 
to  replace  it  in  his  pocket,  etc. 

"  In  the  inferior  members  the  course  of 
the  malady  is  much  the  same.  At  first 
insane  general  paralytics  are  able  to  walk 
firmly  when  going  straight  forward  :  but 
when  they  have  to  turn  to  the  right  or  to 
the  left,  and  above  all  when  they  have  to 
wheel  round  in  order  to  retrace  their  steps, 
they  show  hesitation  and  lack  of  precis- 
ion in  their  movements.  Later,  even  when 
they  are  walking  straight  forward,  they 


40 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


advance  with  a  heavy  tread  and  with  ill- 
coordinated  steps.  Later  still  they  have 
difficulty  in  making  even  a  few  paces."  * 

Compare  the  disorders  of  the  motor  sys- 
tem which  follow  the  abuse  of  alcohol. 
Tremor  is  one  of  the  earliest  phenomena. 
"  The  hands  are  first  affected,  next  the 
arms,  the  legs,  the  tongue  and  the  lips. 
As  the  disorder  progresses  the  tremulous- 
ness  becomes  complicated  with  another 
affection  of  a  more  serious  kind,  muscu- 
lar debility.  This  too  first  affects  the 
superior  member  in  nearly  every  case. 
The  fingers  lose  their  cunning,  the  hand 
holds  objects  imperfectly  and  lets  them 
slip  from  its  grasp.  Then  this  feebleness 
extends  to  the  forearm  and  to  the  arm. 
The  patient  now  can  .use  his  superior 
members  only  in  a  very  imperfect  fashion, 
and  in  time  he  is  unable  to  take  his  food 
without  assistance.  Later  these  phenom- 
ena extend  to  the  inferior  members.  To 
stand  becomes  difficult ;  the  gait  is  un- 
steady, tottering ;  and  these  symptoms 
become  more  and  more  pronounced  from 
day  to  day.  The  muscles  of  the  back  in 
turn  succumb,  and  the  patient  must  keep 
his  bed."  f 

Compare  also  what  takes  place  in  con- 
vulsions, chorea,  etc.  This  steady  advance, 
which  for  the  physician  possesses  only  a 
clinical  interest,  has  for  us  a  psychologi- 
cal interest.  These  familiar  facts  will 
suffice,  I  hope,  to  prove  that  the  course 
of  dissolution  is  from  the  complex  to  the 
simple,  from  the  voluntary  to  the  auto- 
matic, and  that  the  final  term  of  evolution 
is  the  initial  term  of  dissolution.  We 
have  so  far  studied,  it  is  true,  only  the 
disorganization  of  movements,  but  those 
who  treat  psychology  as  a  natural  science 
will  find  here  nothing  that  needs  to  be  re- 
stated. Inasmuch  as  volition  is  for  us 
not  an  imperative  entity  reigning  in  a 
world  apart,  but  the  ultimate  expression 
of  an  hierarchic  coordination  i  and  as  each 
movement  or  group  of  movements  is  rep- 
resented in  the  nerve  centers,  it  is  plain 
that  with  each  group  that  is  paralyzed 
an  element  of  coordination  disappears. 
If  the  dissolution  is  progressive,  the  co- 
ordination, which  is  continually  being 
stripped  of  some  element,  becomes  more 
and  more  restricted  :  and  since  experience 
shows  that  the  disappearance  of  move- 
rnejits  is  in  direct  ratio  to  their  complexi- 
ty and  their  precision,  our  theory  is  justi- 
fied. 

We   might    further  pursue  this  verifi- 

*  Foville  in  the   "  Dictionnaire  de    Mddecine,'' 
art.  PARALYSIS  G£N£RALE. 
t  Fournier,  i6idem,axi.  ALCOOLISME. 


cation  of  our  law  by  calling  attention  to 
what  takes  place  in  diseases  of  speech. 
Here  we  touch  upon  the  inmost  mechan- 
ism of  the  mind :  but  I  will  not  discuss 
over  again  a  subject  I  have  already  treated 
at  length.  In  "  The  Diseases  of  Mem- 
ory," *  I  have  endeavored  to  show  that 
many  cases  of  aphasia  result  from  motor 
amnesia,  that  is,  from  a  forgetfulness  of 
motor  elements,  of  those  movements 
which  constitute  articulate  speech.  I  will 
simply  repeat  that  it  was  an  observation 
of  Trousseau  that  "  aphasia  is  always  re- 
ducible to  a  loss  of  memory  either  of  the 
vocal  signs  or  of  the  means  whereby 
words  are  articulated  ; "  and  that  W. 
Ogle  also  recognizes  two  word  memories 
— one,  recognized  by  every  one,  whereby 
we  are  conscious  of  a  word,  and  besides 
this  another  whereby  we  express  it.  This 
forgetfulness  of  the  movements,  though 
primarily  it  is  a  disease  of  memory,  reveals 
to  us  furthermore  an  impairment  of  the 
motor  power,  a  disordered  condition  of 
voluntary  coordination.  The  patient 
wishes  to  express  himself,  but  his  volition 
comes  to  naught  or  manifests  itself  im- 
perfectly ;  that  is  to  say  the  sum  of  the 
coordinated  tendencies  which  at  the  mo- 
ment constitute  the  individual  in  so  far  as 
he  would  express  himself,  is  partially 
hindered  in  its  passage  into  act ;  and  ex- 
perience teaches  us  that  this  impotence 
of  expression  affects  first  words,  t.e.  ra- 
tional speech  ;  next  exclamatory  phrases, 
interjections,  what  Max  Miiller  calls  emo- 
tional language ;  lastly,  and  only  in  rare 
cases,  gesture.  -Here  too  then  dissolution 
proceeds  from  the  more  complex  to  the 
less  complex  and  to  the  simple  :  from  the 
voluntary  to  the  semivoluntary  and  the 
automatic ;  but  the  latter  is  in  most  cases 
unaffected. 

We  may  now  advance  further  into  the 
purely  psychic  life,  but  here  all  becomes 
vague  and  fluctuating.  As  we  no  longer 
can  refer  each  volition  to  a  group  of  move- 
ments of  the  vocal,  locomotory  or  prehen- 
sile organs,  we  must  needs  grope.  Still 
we  cannot  but  perceive  that  the  highest 
form  of  volition,  voluntary  attention,  is 
rarest  of  all  and  the  most  instable.  If  in- 
stead of  considering  voluntary  attention  f 
after  the  fashion  of  the  subjective  psychol- 
ogist Who  studies  himself  and  there  halts, 
we  consider  it  in  the  mass  of  sane  adult 
persons,  in  order  to  determine  approxi- 


*  See  HUMBODLT  LIBRARY,  No,  46,  Chapter  III., 
page  39. 

t  We  do  not  speak  of  involuntary  attention,  which 
is  natural,  spontaneous.  This  point  has  already 
been  explained  in  Chapter  IV. 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


41 


mately  what  place  it  holds  in  their  mental 
life,  we  shall  see  how  seldom  it  occurs  and 
for  how  short  a  time  it  lasts.  If  it  were 
possible  to  survey  humanity  as  a  whole 
for  a  given  period  of  time,  and  to  compare 
the  sum  of  the  acts  produced  by  voluntary 
attention  with  the  sum  of  the  acts  pro- 
duced without  it,  We  should  find  the  ratio 
to  be  nearly  as  zero  to  infinity.  By  rea- 
son of  its  very  superiority  and  its  extreme 
complexity,  it  is  a  state,  a  coordination  * 
that  can  seldom  come  into  existence  and 
which  begins  to  break  up  as  soon  as  it  is 
formed. 

To  confine  ourselves  to  admitted  facts, 
is  it  not  a  familiar  observation  that  inabil- 
ity to  hold  the  mind  attentive  is  one  of  the 
first  symptoms  of  mental  impairment 
whether  temporary  as  in  fevers,  or  perma- 
nent as  in  insanity?  The  highest  form 
of  coordination  therefore  is  the  most  in- 
stable,  even  in  the  purely  psychological 
order. 

And  what  is  this  law  of  dissolution  but 
a  phase  of  the  great  biological  law  already 
pointed  out  with  respect  to  memory,  viz., 
that  the  functions  last  to  be  acquired  are 
the  first  to  degenerate.  In  the  individual 
automatic  coordination  precedes  coordi- 
nation springing  from  the  appetites  and 
passions ;  this  latter  precedes  voluntary 
coordination :  and  the  simpler  forms  of 
voluntary  attention  precede  the  more  com- 
plex. In  the  development  of  species,  ac- 
cording to  the  evolution  theory,  the  lower 
forms  of  activity  existed  alone  for  ages ; 
then  with  the  increasing  complexity  of  the 
coordinations  came  will.  Hence  a  return 
to  the  reign  of  impulsion,  with  whatever 
brilliant  qualities  of  mind  it  may  be  ac- 
companied, is  in  itself  a  regression.  This 
being  so,  the  following  passage  from  Her- 
bert Spencer  will  serve  us  as  a  summation 
and  a  conclusion  upon  this  point :  f 

"  There  is  one  other  trait  of  nervous  debil- 
ity on  which  a  few  words  may  be  said — the 
accompanying  change  of  character  or  modifi- 
cation of  the  emotional  nature. 

"  Even  small  ebbings  of  the  nervous  fluid 
hardly  to  be  called  abnormal  produce  slight 
modifications  of  this  kind,  as  is  observable  in 
children.  The  highest  coordinating  plexuses 
being  in  them  the  least  developed,  children 
"betray  more  quickly  than  adults  any  defective 
action  of  these  plexuses ;  and  they  habitually 
do  this  when  the  general  nervous  pressure  is 


*  Just  as  groups  of  simple  movements  have  to  be 
organized  and  coordinated  to  allow  of  the  higher 
coordination  from  which  come  delicate  and  complex 
movements ;  so  must  groups  of  simple  states  of  con- 
sciousness be  organized,  associated  and  coordinated 
to  allow  of  this  higher  coordination  called  attention. 

t"  Principles  of  Psychology,''  vol.  i..  §  262. 


below  par.  Sluggishness  of  the  alimentary 
canal,  implying  partial  failure  of  nutrition  and 
decreased  genesis  of  energy,  is  accompanied 
by  fretfulness — by  a  display  of  the  lower  im- 
pulses uncontrolled  by  the  higher. 

"  It  is  however  in  the  chronically  nervous 
whose  blood,  deteriorated  in  quality  and  fee- 
bly propelled,  fails  to  keep  up  a  due  activity 
of  molecular  change,  that  we  see  this  connec- 
tion of  phenomena  most  clearly.  The  irasci- 
bility of  persons  in  this  state  is  matter  of 
common  remark;  and  irascibility  implies  a 
relative  inactivity  of  the  superior  feelings. 
It  results  when  a  sudden  discharge,  sent  by 
a  pain  or  annoyance  through  those  plexuses 
which  adjust  the  conduct  to  painful  and  an- 
noying agencies,  is  unaccompanied  by  a  dis- 
charge through  those  plexuses  which  adjust 
the  conduct  to  many  circumstances  instead 
of  a  single  circumstance.  That  deficient  gen- 
esis of  nervous  fluid  accounts  for  this  loss  of 
emotional  balance  is  a  corollary  from  all  that 
has  gone  before.  The  plexuses  which  coor- 
dinate the  defensive  and  destructive  activi- 
ties, and  in  which  are  seated  the  accompany- 
ing feelings  of  antagonism  and  anger,  are  in- 
herited from  all  antecedent  races  of  creatures, 
and  are  therefore  well  organized — so  well  or- 
ganized that  the  child  in  arms  shows  them  in 
action.  But  the  plexuses  which  by  connect- 
ing and  coordinating  a  variety  of  inferior  plex- 
uses adapt  the  behavior  to  a  variety  of  ex- 
ternal requirements  have  been  but  recently 
evolved ;  so  that  besides  being  extensive  and 
intricate  they  are  formed  of  much  less  per- 
meable channels.  Hence  when  the  nervous 
system  is  not  fully  charged  these  latest  and 
highest  structures  are  the  first  to  fail.  In- 
stead of  being  instant  to  act,  their  actions,  if 
appreciable  at  all,  come  too  late  to  check 
the  actions  of  subordinate  structures." 

Having  step  by  step  followed  the  course 
of  dissolution  of  the  will,  the  fundamental 
result  seems  to  be  that  the  will  is  a  co- 
ordination varying  in  complexity  and  in 
degree ;  that  this  coordination  is  the  con- 
dition of  all  volition ;  and  that  when  the  co- 
ordination is  either  partially  or  wholly 
broken  up,  volition  is  either  abolished  or 
maimed.  Upon  this  result  we  would  now 
insist,  limiting  ourselves  to  a  few  brief  sug- 
gestions upon  certain  points. 

I.  Let  us  first  examine  the  material  con- 
ditions of  this  coordination.  Will,  though 
among  a  privileged  few  it  attains  extraordi- 
nary power  and  performs  great  feats,  has  a 
very  lowly  origin.  It  has  its  rise  in  a  bio- 
logical property  inherent  in  all  living  mat- 
ter and  known  as  irritability,  that  is  to  say 
reaction  against  external  forces.  Irrita- 
bility— the  physiological  form  of  the  law 
of  inertia — is  in  some  sense  a  state  of  pri- 
mordial indifferentiation  whence  shall 
spring,  by  an  ulterior  differentiation,  sen- 
sibility properly  so  called  and  motility, 
those  two  great  bases  of  psychic  life. 


42 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


Motility,  which  alone  concerns  us  here, 
manifests  itself  even  in  the  vegetal  king- 
dom under  divers  forms,  as  by  the  move- 
ments of  certain  spores,  of  the  Sensitive 
Plant,  of  Dionaa  and  sundry  other  plants 
to  which  Darwin  has  devoted  a  well  known 
work.  The  apparently  homogeneous  pro- 
toplasmic mass  which  alone  constitutes 
certain  rudimentary  organisms,  is  pos- 
sessed of  motility.  The  amoeba,  the 
white  corpuscle  of  the  blood,  move 
little  by  little  by  the  aid  of  the  processes  | 
which  they  send  out.  These  facts  which  j 
are  described  in  many  special  works  teach 
us  that  motility  made  its  appearance  long 
before  the  muscles  and  the  nervous  system. 

We  have  no  occasion  to  follow  the  evo- 
lution of  these  two  apparatus  through  the 
animal  series.  We  would  only  remark 
that  researches  upon  the  localization  of 
the  motor  centers — a  subject  that  very 
nearly  concerns  the  mechanism  of  the  will 
— have  led  some  physiologists  to  study  the 
state  of  these  centers  in  new-born  ani- 
mals. "  This  investigation,very  carefully 
made  by  Soltmann  in  1875,  gave  the  fol- 
lowing results :  In  hares  and  dogs,  there 
does  not  exist,  immediately  after  birth,  any 
point  in  the  cortex  capable,  under  electric 
irritation,  of  producing  movements.  Not 
until  the  tenth  day  are  the  centers  for  the 
anterior  members  developed.  On  the 
thirteenth  day  the  centers  for  the  poste- 
rior members  appear.  On  the  sixteenth 
these  centers  are  distinguishable  from  one 
another  and  from  those  belonging  to  the 
face.  One  conclusion  to  be  drawn  from 
these  results  is  that  the  absence  of  volun- 
tary motor  direction  coincides  with  the  ab- 
sence of  the  corresponding  organs,  and 
that  the  more  the  animal  becomes  master 
of  its  movements,  the  cerebral  centers  in 
which  the  volitional  process  takes  place 
gain  a  more  manifest  independence."* 

Flechsig  and  Parrot  have  studied  the 
development  of  the  brain  in  the  foetus  and 
in  the  infant.  From  the  researches  of  the 
latter  author  f  it  appears  that  if  we  follow 
the  development  of  the  white  matter  of  an 
entire  hemisphere,  we  find  it  rising  suc- 
cessively from  the  peduncle  to  the  optic 
thalami,  then  to  the  internal  capsule,  to 
the  hemispheric  center,  and  finally  to  the 
mantle  of  the  brain.  The  parts  which  are 
slowest  to  develop  are  those  which  are 
destined  to  perform  the  highest  functions. 

The  formative  period  past,  the  mechan- 
ism of  will  action  seems  to  be  as  follows  : 
The  incitation  starts  from  the  so  called 

*  Francpis-Franck,  in    the    "  Dictionnaire    En- 
cycl.  des  Sci.  Med.."  art.  NERVEUX,  p.  585. 
t  "  Archives  de  Physiologic,"  1879. 


motor  regions  of  the  cortex  (parietofron- 
tal  region)  and  follows  the  pyramidal 
fasciculus  called  by  some  authors  the  vol- 
untary fasciculus.  This  fasciculus  which 
is  formed  by  the  grouping  of  all  the  fibers- 
coming  from  the  motor  convolutions,  de- 
scends through  the  oval  center,  and  forms 
a  small  part  of  the  internal  capsule,  which 
as  we  know  penetrates  into  the  corpus 
striatum  "  like  a  wedge  into  a  piece  of 
timber."  Then  it  follows  the  peduncle 
and  the  medulla  where  it  undergoes  more 
or  less  perfect  decussation  and  passes  to 
the  opposite  side  of  the  cord,  so  forming 
a  great  commissure  between  the  motor 
convolutions  and  the  gray  matter  of  the 
cord,  from  which  are  given  out  the  motor 
nerves.  This  rough  sketch  gives  some 
notion  of  the  complexity  of  the  elements 
requisite  for  will  action,  and  of  the  close 
connection  which  exists  between  them.* 

Unfortunately  there  are  differences  as 
to  the  interpretation  of  the  real  nature  of 
the  brain  centers  from  which  comes  the  in- 
citation. According  to  Ferrier  and  many 
other  authors  these  are  motor  centers  in  the 
strict  sense,  that  is  to  say,  in  them  and 
through  them  the  movement  begins. 
Schiff ,  Hitzig,  Nothnagel,  Charlton  Bastian 
and  Munk  have  given  other  interpretations 
not  all  of  equal  clearness  or  of  equal  prob- 
ability. But  they  generally  agree  in  re- 
garding these  centers  as  being  rather  "  sen- 
sory "  in  their  nature,  the  motor  function 
proper  being  referred  to  the  corpus  stria- 
tum. "  The  nervous  fibers  that  extend 
from  the  cerebral  cortex,  in  higher  animals 
and  in  man,  down  to  the  corpora  striata  are 
in  their  nature  strictly  comparable  with  the 
fibers  connecting  the  '  sensory '  and  the 
'  motor '  cells  in  an  ordinary  nervous 


*  The  process  is  described  as  follows  by  Dr. 
Charlton  Bastian.  Taking  the  spinal  and  medullary 
mechanisms  as  being  either  developed  or  in  process 
of  development  we  may  now  turn  our  attention  more 
particularly  to  a  consideration  of  the  parts  whence 
and  of  the  channels  through  which  cerebral  incita- 
tions  pass  in  emotional,  ideomotor  and  volitional 
movements.  One  part  of  the  route  has  been  pretty 
clearly  defined. 

Motor  stimuli  pass  from  certain  parts  of  the  cere- 
bral cortex  downward  to  the  corresponding  corpora 
striata.  These  bodies  are  called  into  activity  in  a 
way  which  cannot  be  defined,  though  from  them 
the  motor  stimuli  seem  to  be  continued  and  redi- 
rected toward  the  motor  mechanisms  in  the  medulla 
and  spinal  cord.  The  tracks  of  these  latter  stimuli 
are  fairly  well  known.  They  pass  from  each  corpus, 
striatum  through  the  inferior  layers  of  the  crus  cere- 
bri  and  througTi  thepons  Varolii  on  the  same  side  ; 
while  below  this  bridge  they  are  gathered  together 
in  the  anterior  pyramid  of  the  medulla,  which  after 
a  course  of  a  little  more  than  an  inch  decussates  in 
part  with  its  fellow,  so  that  many  of  the  fibers  of 
each  pyramid  pass  over  into  the  opposite  lateral 
column  of  the  cord,  while  some  continue  to  descend 
on  the  same  side  in  the  anterior  column.—"  The 
Brain  as  an  Organ  of  Mind,"  chap.  xxvi. 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


mechanism  for  reflex  action."  *  In  other 
words,  there  exists  in  the  cortex  "  circum- 
scribed regions  experimental  excitation 
of  which  produces  in  the  opposite  side  of 
the  body  determinate  localized  move- 
ments. Seemingly  these  points  ought  to 
be  regarded  much  rather  as  centers  of 
voluntary  association  than  as  motor  cen- 
ters properly  so  called.  They  are  the 
seat  of  incitements  to  voluntary  move- 
ments, and  not  actual  starting  points  of 
movements.  They  are  to  be  compared 
rather  to  the  peripheric  organs  of  sense 
than  to  the  motor  apparatus  of  the  ante- 
rior cornua  of  the  medulla.  These  cen- 
ters then  are  psychomotor  centers  be- 
cause by  their  purely  psychic  action  they 
command  true  motor  apparatus.  .  .  .  We 
believe  that  the  different  points  indicated 
as  motor  centers  for  the  members,  the 
face,  etc.,  correspond  to  the  apparatus 
which  receive  and  transform  into  volun- 
tary incitation  the  sensations  of  peripheric 
origin.  These  are  volitional  centers,  not 
true  motor  centers."! 

But  notwithstanding  this  question  re- 
mains still  undecided,  and  notwithstand- 
ing the  matters  of  detail  respecting  the 
part  played  by  the  cerebellum  that  are  as 
yet  undetermined,  we  may  say  with  Charl- 
ton  Bastian  that  "  if  since  Hume's  time 
we  have  not  learned  in  any  full  sense 
of  the  term  '  the  means  by  which  the 
motion  of  our  bodies  follows  upon  the 
command  of  our  will,'  we  have  at  least 
learned  something  as  to  the  parts  chiefly 
concerned,  and  thus  as  to  the  paths  trav- 
ersed by  volitional  stimuli."  J 

II.  If  we  look  at  the  question  on  its  psy- 
chological side,  voluntary  coordination  as- 
sumes so  many  forms  and  exists  in  so 
many  degrees  that  we  can  only  note  its 
principal  features.  It  would  be  the  nat- 
ural course  to  consider  the  lowest  form, 
but  I  judge  it  best,  for  the  sake  of  clear- 
ness, to  follow  the  reverse  order. 

Coordination  of  the  most  perfect  kind 
is  seen  in  great  men  of  action  whatever 
be  the  nature  of  their  activity — in  Caesar, 
Michelangelo  or  Saint  Vincent  de  Paul. 
Its  properties  are  unity,  stability,  power. 
The  outer  unity  of  such  men's  lives  is 
founded  on  the  unity  of  their  aim  which 
they  steadily  pursue,  and  which  according 
to  circumstances  makes  new  coordinations 
and  adaptations.  But  this  outer  unity  it- 
self is  but  the  expression  of  an  inner  unity 
— the  unity  of  their  character.  It  is  be- 


*  Bastian,  "  The  Brain  as  an  Organ  of  Mind," 
chap.  xxvi. 

t  Fran?ois-Franck,  loc.  cit. 
\  Loc,  cit. 


cause  they  remain  the  same  that  their  aim\ 
is  the  same.  What  is  fundamental  in 
their  nature  is  a  mighty,  irrepressible  pas- 
sion which  controls  all  their  thoughts.. 
This  passion  is  the  man — the  psychic  ex- 
pression of  his  constitution  as  nature  made 
it.  Such  men  present  the  type  of  a  life- 
always  in  harmony  with  itself,  because  ia 
them  everything  conspires  and  converges 
to  a  definite  aim.  Such  characters  are 
found  in  everyday  life,  but  they  are  un- 
known to  fame  because  either  loftiness  of 
aim,  or  circumstances,  or,  above  all,, 
strength  of  passion  has  been  lacking. 
They  possess  only  stability.  The  great 
historic  Stoics,  as  Epictetus  and  Thraseas 

I  speak  not  of  their  Sage,  who  is  only 
an  abstract  ideal — have  realized  this  higher 
type  of  will  in  its  negative  form — inhibi- 
tion— conformably  to  the  maxim  of  the 
school,  Bear  and  refrain. 

Below  this  grade  of  perfect  coordination,, 
there  are  characters  that  show  an  inter- 
mittence  of  coordination  :  whose  center 
of  gravity,  while  ordinarily  stable,  oscil- 
lates nevertheless  from  time  to  time.  A 
group  of  tendencies  will  temporarily  se- 
cede from  the  coordination,  expressing,  so- 
far  as  they  are  active,  one  side  of  the  char- 
acter. Neither  as  regards  themselves  nor 
as  regards  others  have  these  individuals 
the  unity  characteristic  of  strong  wills ;. 
the  more  frequent  and  the  more  complex 
these  infractions  of  perfect  coordination, 
the  less  is  the  will  power. 

Lower  in  the  scale  we  find  lives  in  which 
two  contrary  or  two  different  tendencies 
reign  alternately.  There  are  in  the  indi- 
vidual two  alternating  centers  of  gravity, 
two  points  of  convergence  for  coordina- 
tions successively  preponderant  but  partial.. 
This  type  is  perhaps  the  most  common 
one,  as  we  may  convince  ourselves  by- 
looking  about  us  or  by  consulting  the 
poets  and  the  novelists  of  every  age  who- 
are  ever  declaring  that  there  are  two  na- 
tures in  every  one.  The  number  of  these 
successive  coordinations  may  be  larger 
still ;  but  it  is  useless  to  pursue  further 
this  analysis. 

One  step  more  and  we  enter  the  region 
of  pathology.  Take  a  case  where  sudden 
and  irresistible  impulses  hold  the  will  every 
moment  in  check :  here  is  an  unduly 
strong  tendency  ever  destroying  the  equi- 
librium, for  its  intensity  will  not  allow  of 
its  being  coordinated  with  the  other  ten- 
dencies :  it  commands  instead  of  subordi- 
nating itself.  And  when  such  impulses 
have  come  to  be  not  an  accident  but  a 
habit,  not  one  side  of  the  character  but 
the  character  itself,  then  there  is  only  an. 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


intermittent  coordination — it   is  the  will 
that  becomes  the  exception  then. 

Lower  still,  and  will  is  simply  accidental. 
In  the  indefinite  succession  of  impulsions 
that  vary  from  minute  to  minute,  a  chance 
volition  finds  only  at  long  intervals  its  con- 
ditions of  existence.  Caprices  take  the 
place  of  volitions.  The  hysterical  charac- 
ter furnishes  the  type  of  this  perfect  inco- 
.ordination.  Here  we  reach  the  final  term 
of  the  will.  At  a  grade  lower  than  this 
there  are  no  diseases  of  the  will,  but  an 
arrest  of  development  which  precludes 
will  altogether.  Such  is  the  state  of  idiots 
and  imbeciles.  We  will  add  a  few  re- 
marks upon  these  mental  states  in  order 
to  complete  our  pathological  study. 

"  In  profound  idiocy,"  says  Griesinger,  "  ef- 
fort and  determination  to  action  are  always 
instinctive.  Generally  they  are  prompted  by 
the  craving  for  food,  and  in  most  instances 
they  possess  the  character  of  reflex  actions 
of  which  the  individual  is  hardly  conscious. 
•Certain  simple  ideas  however  may  incite  them 
to  effort  and  movement,  as  when  they  amuse 
themselves  by  playing  with  bits  of  paper  or 
the  like.  Without  taking  into  account  those 
sunk  in  the  profoundest  idiocy,  the  question 
arises,  Is  there  here  anything  that  represents 
will  ?  What  is  there  in  them  that  can  will  ? 

"  In  many  idiots  of  this  last  class  the  only 
thing  that  seems  to  arouse  the  mind  in  some 
•degree  to  action,  is  the  desire  to  eat.  The 
lowest  idiots  manifest  this  desire  only  by 
.grunts  and  bodily  agitation.  Those  in  whom 
mental  degeneration  has  not  gone  so  far  move 
the  lips  or  the  hands  slightly,  or  even  cry : 
thus  do  they  express  their  desire  of  food.  In 
idiocy  of  a  less  pronounced  type,  the  basis  of 
the  character  is  inconstancy  and  obtuseness 
of  feeling  and  weakness  of  will.  The  humor 
of  idiots  belonging  to  this  class  depends  on 
their  surroundings  and  the  treatment  they  re- 
•ceive.  They  are  docile  and  obedient  when 
well  cared  for,  but  perverse  and  malicious 
•when  ill  used."  * 

Before  we  quit  this  subject,  we  would 
remark  that  if  the  will  is  a  coordination, 
that  is  to  say  a  sum  of  relations,  it  may  be 
affirmed  a  priori  that  it  will  be  of  far 
rarer  occurrence  than  simpler  forms  of 
psychic  activity,  because  a  complex  state 
has  much  less  chance  of  coming  into 
existence  and  of  enduring,  than  a  sim- 
.  pie  state.  And  so  it  is  in  fact.  If  in  any 
human  life  we  take  note  of  the  parts  played 
by  automatism,  by  habit,  by  the  passions, 
and  above  all  by  imitation,  we  shall  find 
that  the  number  of  acts  that  are  in  the 
strict  sense  of  the  term  purely  voluntary  is 
yery  small.  For  the  majority  of  mankind 
imitation  suffices  :  they  are  contented  to 
accept  that  which  has  been  matter  of  vol- 


*  Griesinger,  opus  citatum^  pp.  433,  434. 


untary  choice  by  others,  and  as  they  think 
in  the  thoughts,  so  they  act  with  the  will 
of  the  multitude.  Viewed  in  connection 
with  the  habits  that  render  it  of  no  use, 
and  with  the  diseases  that  maim  or  destroy 
it,  the  will,  as  we  have  already  said,  is  a 
happy  accident. 

We  need  hardly  observe  how  closely 
this  coordination,  ever  growing  more  com- 
plex, of  tendencies,  which  comstitutes  the 
different  degrees  of  will,  resembles  the  co- 
ordination, ever  growing  more  complex,  of 
sensations  and  mental  images  which  con- 
stitutes the  different  degrees  of  intelli- 
gence. The  one  has  for  its  basis  and 
fundamental  condition  character,  the  other 
"forms  of  thought."  They  are  each  a 
more  or  less  perfect  adaptation  of  the  in- 
dividual to  his  surroundings  whether  in 
respect  to  action  or  to  cognition. 

We  are  now  ready  to  formulate  the  gen- 
eral conclusion  of  this  inquiry,  already  in- 
cidentally indicated.  It  will,  I  hope,  throw 
light  retrospectively  upon  the  path  we  have 
been  pursuing.  It  is  as  follows  : 

Volition  is  a  final  act  of  consciousness 
resulting  from  the  more  or  less  complex 
coordination  of  a  group  of  states  whether 
conscious,  subconscious  or  unconscious 
(purely  physiological)  which  all  together 
find  expression  in  an  action  or  in  an  in- 
hibition. The  principal  factor  of  the  co- 
ordination is  character,  and  character  is 
simply  the  psychic  expression  of  an  indi- 
vidual organism.  It  is  character  which 
gives  unity  to  the  coordination,  not  the 
abstract  unity  of  the  mathematical  point, 
but  the  concrete  unity  of  a  consensus.  The 
act  whereby  this  coordination  takes  place 
and  is  affirmed  is  choice  founded  on  a 
natural  affinity. 

Thus  volition,  so  often  observed,  anal- 
yzed and  explained  by  subjective  psychol- 
ogists, is  in  our  view  simply  a  state  of  con- 
sciousness. It  is  only  an  effect  of  that 
psychophysiological  activity,  so  often  de- 
scribed, whereof  a  part  only  enters  con- 
sciousness under  the  form  of  a  deliberation. 
Furthermore,  -volition  is  not  a  cause  at  all. 
The  acts  and  movements  that  follow  vo- 
lition result  directly  from  the  tendencies, 
feelings,  mental  images  and  ideas  which 
have  succeeded  in  being  coordinated  in 
the  form  of  a  choice :  from  this  group 
comes  all  the  efficiency.  In  other  terms, 
and  to  leave  no  ambiguity,  the  psycho- 
physiological  work  of  deliberation  results 
on  the  one  hand  in  a  state  of  conscious- 
ness,— the  volition  ;  on  the  other  hand  in 
a  sum  of  movements  or  inhibitions.  The 
I  will "  shows  that  a  situation  exists, 


THE  DISEASES  OF  THE  WILL. 


but  does  not  constitute  it.  I  should  com- 
pare it  to  the  verdict  of  a  jury  which  may 
be  the  result  of  very  passionate  pleadings 
and  of  the  charge  of  the  judge,  and  which 
may  be  attended  by  grave  consequences 
extending  far  into  the  future,  but  which 
is  an  effect  and  not  a  cause,  being  in  law 
a  simple  determination,  or  ascertainment. 
If  the  will  be  insisted  on  as  a  faculty, 
an  entity,  all  is  contradiction,  obscurity, 
confusion.  If  on  the  contrary  we  take 
the  facts  as  they  are,  we  at  least  free  our- 
selves of  factitious  difficulties.  We  do 
not  have  to  ask  ourselves  how  an  "  I  will  " 
can  make  my  members  to  move.  That 
is  a  mystery  that  does  not  need  to  be  ex- 
plained, for  the  simple  reason  that  it  does 
not  exist,  volition  being  in  no  sense  a 
cause.  We  must  look  for  the  secret  in 
the  natural  tendency  of  feelings  and  men- 
tal images  to  find  expression  in  move- 
ments. Here  we  have  only  a  very  highly 
complicated  case  of  the  law  of  reflex  ac- 
tion in  which  between  the  period  of  exci- 
tation and  the  motor  period  there  appears 
a  capital  psychic  fact — volition — showing 
that  the  first  period  ends  and  the  second 
begins. 


Observe  further  how  the  strange  mal- 
ady called  aboulia  may  be  easily  explained, 
and  with  it  the  analogous  forms  considered 
in  Chapter  II.,  and  even  the  simple  feeble- 
ness of  will-*-hardly  a  morbid  state — so 
common  among  persons  who  say  they 
have  the  will  and  act  not.  The  explana- 
tion is  that  the  individual  organism  had 
two  effects  to  produce  and  produces  only 
one — the  state  of  consciousness,  choice, 
affirmation ;  but  the  motor  tendencies  are 
too  weak  to  pass  into  acts.  There  is  suf- 
ficient coordination,  but  insufficient  impul- 
sion. In  the  case  of  irresistible  acts,  on 
the  contrary,  impulsion  is  in  excess,  while 
coordination  is  defective  or  non-existent. 

Thus  then  we  obtain  from  the  study  of 
the  pathology  these  two  results,  viz.,  that 
the  "  I  will  "  has  no  efficacy  in  producing 
action  ;  and  that  will  in  the  sane  man  is 
a  coordination  exceedingly  complex  and 
instable,  and  by  reason  of  its  very  supe- 
riority easily  broken  up,  being  "  the  high 
est  force  yet  introduced  by  nature — the 
last  consummate  efflorescence  of  all  her 
wondrous  works."  * 


*  Maudsley, "  Pbvsiolo^  of  fhe  Mind.1' 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

INTRODUCTION— THE  QUESTtON  STATED. 

PAGE. 

The  question  stated — The  will  as  an  impulsive  force — The  will  as  a  power  of  inhibition 

— Individual  character — Choice  :  its  nature I 

CHAPTER  II. 
IMPAIRMENT  OF  THE  WILL — LACK  OF  IMPULSION. 

Division  of  diseases  of  the  will — Aboulia,  or  impotence  of  will:  case  of  Thomas  De 
Quincey — Instances  recorded  by  Billed — Probable  cause  of  this  state— Analogous 
cases  :  Agoraphobia ;  Griibelsucht ;  cases  bordering  on  extinction  of  will — The 
feeling  of  effort :  its  two  forms 10 

CHAPTER  III. 
IMPAIRMENT  OF  THE  WILL — EXCESS  OF  IMPULSION. 

Sudden  unconscious  impulsions — Irresistible  impulsions  accompanied  by  conscious- 
ness— Gradual  transition  from  the  sane  to  the  morbid  state :  fixed  ideas — Dislo- 
cation of  the  will — Its  probable  causes — Impairments  from  intoxication,  brain  le- 
sions, etc 19 

CHAPTER  IV. 

IMPAIRMENT  OF  VOLUNTARY  ATTENTION. 

Intellectual  power  and  impotence  of  the  will — Coleridge  :  his  portrait  by  Carlyle — Two 
forms  of  impairment — The  meaning  of  attention :  it  has  its  seat  in  feeling — How 
it  is  sustained 24 

CHAPTER  V. 

THE  REALM  OF  CAPRICE. 

Absence  of  the  essential  conditions  of  will — The  hysterical  character — Whence  comes 

its  instability — "  Psychic  Paralysis." 29 

CHAPTER  VI. 

EXTINCTION  OF  THE  WILL. 

Two  states  of  will-extinction — Ecstasy :  described  by  St.  Theresa — Anomalousness 
of  that  mental  state — Somnambulism  :  cases  of  absolute  extinction  of  will — Ambig- 
uous cases :  instances  of  resistance — Illusion  of  some  hypnotized  subjects  as  to  the 
possession  of  will  power 3! 

CHAPTER  VII. 

CONCLUSION. 

The  will  the  last  term  of  a  progressive  evolution,  the  first  term  being  simple  reflex  action 
— Law  of  the  dissolution  of  the  will — Verification  of  this  law — Material  conditions 
of  will — Coordination — Physiological  development  of  this  coordination — Psycho- 
logical development — The  will  in  idiots — General  conclusion :  Volition  is  a  simple 
state  of  consciousness 37 

-  - 


THE 


DISEASES   OF    PERSONALITY. 

BY  TH.  RIBOT. 

TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  FRENCH  BY  J.  FITZGERALD,  M.A. 
(Copyright,  1887,  by  J.  Fitzgerald.) 


CHAPTER    I. 

INTRODUCTION.— PERSONALITY. — INDI- 
VIDUALITY.—CONSCIOUSNESS. 

IN  the  language  of  psychology  the  gen- 
eral meaning  of  the  term  "  person  "  is,  an 
individual  being  that  has  a  clear  conscious- 
ness of  itself  and  that  acts  consequently  • 
it  is  the  highest  form  of  individuality. 
Metaphysical  psychology,  to  explain  this 
character  (which  it  reserves  for  man  ex- 
clusively) merely  assumes  a  Me  \_ego\,  ab- 
solutely one,  simple,  and  identical.  Un- 
fortunately, the  explanation  is  illusive,  the 
solution  only  apparent.  Unless  we  assign 
a  supernatural  origin  to  this  Me.  we  must 
needs  explain  how  it  comes  to  be,  and 
from  what  lower  form  it  springs.  Ex- 
perimental psychology  can  neither  state 
the  problem  in  the  same  way  nor  treat  it 
by  the  same  method.  It  learns  from  nat- 
ural history  how  difficult  it  is  in  many 
cases  to  determine  the  characters  of  indi- 
viduality, far  less  complex  though  they  be 
than  those  of  personality;  simple,  easy 
solutions  it  mistrusts,  and  far  from  sup- 
posing the  problem  to  be  resolvable  at 
the  first  attack,  it  finds  the  solution  at  the 
final  term  of  its  researches,  as  the  result 
of  laborious  investigations.  It  is  there- 
fore quite  natural  that  the  representatives 
of  the  old  school,  being  a  little  off  their 
bearings,  should  accuse  those  of  the  new 
school  of  "  stealing  their  Me,"  though 
nobody  has  attempted  anything  of  the 
kind.  But  the  language  of  either  side  is 
so  different  from  that  of  the  other,  and 
their  methods  are  so  opposite  that  they 
no  longer  understand  one  another. 

At  the  risk  of  increasing  the  confusion, 
I  would  try  to  find  out  what  is  to  be 
learned  from  teratological,  or  morbid,  or 
merely  rare  cases,  touching  the  formation 
and  disorganization  of  personality,  but 


without  pretending  to  treat  the  subject 
in  its  entirety :  that  undertaking  were,  it 
seems  to  me,  premature. 

Personality  being  the  highest  form  of 
psychic  individuality,  a  preliminary  ques- 
tion arises  :  What  is  an  individual  ?  Few 
problems  have  in  our  days  been  more  dis- 
cussed by  naturalists  than  this,  and  few 
remain  more  obscure  as  regards  the 
lower  grades  of  animal  life.  It  is  not  yet 
time  to  treat  it  in  detail :  in  the  conclu- 
sion of  this  work,  after  we  shall  have 
studied  the  constituent  elements  of  per- 
sonality, we  will  consider  personality 
itself  as  a  whole.  Then  we  shall  take  oc- 
casion to  compare  personality  with  the 
lower  forms  through  which  nature  has 
essayed  to  produce  it,  and  to  show  that 
the  psychic  individual  is  only  the  expres- 
sion of  the  organism :  like  it  of  low 
grade,  undifferentiated,  incoherent,  or 
complex  and  integrated.  For  the  present 
it  suffices  to  remind  the  reader  who  has 
already  some  acquaintance  with  these 
studies,  that  as  we  descend  in  the  animal 
series,  we  see  the  psychic  individual 
formed  by  more  or  less  perfect  fusion  of 
less  complex  individuals — a  colony-con- 
sciousness being  produced  by  the  co-op- 
eration of  local  consciousness.  These 
discoveries  in  natural  history  are  of  the 
utmost  importance  for  psychology.  Ow- 
ing to  them  the  problem  of  personality 
takes  a  new  form  :  it  must  be  approached 
from  below ;  and  one  is  led  to  ask 
whether  the  human  personality  itself  is 
not  a  "  coalition  whole  "  whose  extreme 
complexity  makes  its  origin  difficult  to 
discover,  or  even  inscrutable,  did  not  the 
existence  of  elemental  forms  throw  some 
light  upon  the  process  of  this  fusion. 

Human  personality — and  of  this  alone 
can  we  treat  to  any  purpose,  especially  in 
a  pathological  essay — is  a  concrete  whole, 
a  complex.  To  know  what  it  is,  we  must 


THE   DISEASES    OF   PERSONALITY. 


analyze  it,  and  here  analysis  is  of  neces- 
sity artificial,  for  it  separates  groups  of 
phenomena  that  are  not  merely  juxta- 
posed but  co-ordinated,  and  standing 
toward  one  another  not  in  the  relation  of 
mere  simultaneity  but  of  mutual  depend- 
ence. Still  analysis  is  indispensable. 
Adopting  therefore  a  division  of  the  sub 
ject  which  I  hope  will  be  its  own  justifi- 
cation, I  will  consider  successively  the 
Organic,  the  Affective,  and  the  Intellect- 
ive conditions  of  personality,  laying  stress 
upon  anomalies  and  irregularities.  Upon 
a  final  survey  of  the  subject  we  shall 
group  together  again  these  dissevered 
elements. 


But  before  we  begin  the  exposition  and 
interpretation  of  the  facts,  it  will  be  well 
to  have  an  understanding  as  to  the  nature 
of  consciousness.  I  do  not  propose  to 
write  a  monograph  on  consciousness,  for 
that  would  cover  pretty  nearly  the  whole 
field  of  psychology ;  it  will  be  enough  to 
state  the  problem  with  precision. 

Details  apart,  we  find  only  two  hypoth- 
eses :  one  very  ancient,  according  to 
which  consciousness  is  the  fundamental 
property  of  the  "  soul,"  or  the  "  mind," 
constituting  its  essence ;  the  other  very 
recent,  which  regards  consciousness  as  a 
simple-  phenomenon  superadded  to  the 
cerebral  activity,  as  an  occurrence  having 
its  own  conditions  of  existence,  and  which 
comes  or  goes  as  circumstances  decide. 

The  former  hypothesis  has  been  in 
vogue  so  long  that  it  is  easy  to  judge  of 
its  merits  and  its  defects.  I  am  not 
called  upon  to  pass  sentence  upon  it ;  I 
will  simply  show  its  utter  powerlessness 
to  explain  the  mind's  unconscious  life. 
In  the  first  place,  for  a  long  time  it  took 
no  cognizance  of  this  unconscious  life. 
Leibnitz's  clear  and  profound  observa- 
tions on  that  point  lie  forgotten  or  at 
least  in  abeyance ;  and  till  well  on  in  the 
present  century  the  most  distinguished 
psychologists  (with  a  few  exceptions)  re- 
stricted themselves  to  consciousness.  At 
last,  when  the  question  must  be  heard, 
and  when  it  was  clear  to  every  one  that  to 
regard  psychic  life  as  embracing  simply 
the  data  of  consciousness  is  a  conception 
so  poor  and  jejune  as  to  be  of  no  use  in 
practice,  then  the  metaphysical  psycholo- 
gists were  in  a  quandary.  They  adoptee 
the  hypothesis  of  "  unconscious  states.' 
an  ambiguous  and  semi-contradictory 
term  soon  widely  accepted  :  the  term  it- 
self betrays  the  confusion  of  ideas  amic 
which  it  arose.  What  is  meant  by  "  un- 


conscious states?"  The  wise  note  their 
existence,  without  trying  to  account  for 
hem  ;  the  less  wise  talk  of  latent  thought, 
of  unconscious  consciousness — expres- 
sions so  vague,  so  illogical,  that  many  au- 
thors have  admitted  as  much.  In  truth,  if 
the  soul  be  defined  to  bethinking  sub- 
stance, whereof  states  of  consciousness 
are  modifications,  it  is  plainly  a  contradic- 
tion in  terms  to  ascribe  to  it  unconscious 
states.  No  fetch  of  language,  no  trick  of 
dialectic  can  help  the  matter :  and  foras- 
much as  the  high  importance  of  these  un- 
conscious states  as  factors  of  psychic  life 
is  undeniable,  there  is  no  escape  from  the 
situation. 

The  second  hypothesis  clears  the 
ground  of  all  this  logomachy.  It  does 
away  with  the  factitious  problems  that 
swarm  in  the  first  (e.g.  whether  con- 
sciousness be  a  general  or  a  particular 
faculty,  etc.),  and  we  may  fearlessly  claim 
for  it  the  benefit  of  the  lex  parcimonice, 
It  is  the  simpler,  the  clearer,  the  more 
cqnsistent  of  the  two.  Compared  with 
the  other,  it  may  be  characterized  as  ex- 
pressing the  unconscious  in  physiolog- 
ical terms  (states  of  the  nervous  system) 
and  not  in  psychological  terms  (latent 
thought,  sensations  not  sensed,  etc.). 
But  this  is  only  a  particular  case  of  the 
hypothesis  :  we  have  now  to  consider  it 
as  a  whole. 

I  would  remark  first  that  conscious- 
ness, like  all  general  terms,  must  be  re- 
solved into  concrete  data.  Just  as  there 
is  not  a  will  in  general,  but  only  volitions, 
so  there  is  not  a  consciousness  in  general, 
but  only  states  of  consciousness :  and 
these  alone  are  real.  As  for  defining  the 
state  of  consciousness,  the  fact  of  being 
conscious,  that  were  a  vain  and  idle  at- 
tempt .  it  is  a  datum  of  observation,  an 
ultimate  fact.  Physiology  shows  that  its 
production  is  always  associated  with  the 
activity  of  the  nervous  system  and  in  par- 
ticular of  the  brain.  But  the  converse 
proposition  is  not  true :  though  psychic 
activity  always  implies  nerve  activity, 
nerve  activity  does  not  always  imply 
psychic  activity.  Nerve  activity  has  far 
greater  extension  than  psychic  activity : 
hence  consciousness  is  something  super- 
added.  In  other  words,  we  must  regard 
a  state  of  consciousness  as  a  complex 
fact  (evenement,  event,  occurrence)  which 
presupposes  a  particular  state  of  the  ner- 
vous system ;  nor  is  this  nervous  process 
an  accessory  but  on  the  contrary  an  inte- 
gral part  of  the  fact — nay,  its  ground- 
work, its  fundamental  condition ;  once 
produced,  the  fact  exists  in  itself ;  when 


THE   DISEASES   OF  PERSONALITY. 


consciousness  is  added,  the  fact  exists 
for  itself ;  consciousness  completes  it, 
gives  it  the  finishing  touch,  but  does  not 
constitute  it. 

Upon  this  hypothesis  we  readily  under- 
stand how  every  manifestation  of  psychic 
life — sensations,  desires,  feelings,  voli- 
tions, recollections,  reasonings,  inven- 
tions, etc.,  may  be  alternately  conscious 
and  unconscious.  There  is  nothing  mys- 
terious in  this  alternation,  because  in 
every  case  the  essential  conditions,  i.e., 
the  physiological  conditions,  remain  the 
same,  and  consciousness  is  only  comple 
mentary — the  finish. 

The  question  would  remain,  why  this 
finish  sometimes  is  added,  sometimes  is 
lacking ;  for  were  there  not  in  the  phys- 
iological phenomenon  itself  something 
more  in  the  former  case  than  in  the  lat- 
ter, the  adverse  hypothesis  would  be  in- 
directly strengthened.  If  it  could  be 
shown  that  whenever  certain  physiologi- 
cal conditions  are  present  there  is  con- 
sciousness, that  when  they  disappear, 
consciousness  too  disappears,  and  that 
when  they  vary,  consciousness  varies : 
then  we  should  have  no  longer  an  hy- 
pothesis but  a  scientific  truth.  That  is  a 
distant  prospect  indeed.  Still  we  may 
confidently  predict  that  consciousness  at 
least  will  never  give  us  these  revelations 
touching  itself.  As  Maudsley  justly  says, 
consciousness  cannot  be  at  once  effect 
and  cause — cannot  be  at  once  itself  and 
Its  molecular  antecedents  :  it  lives  for  an 
instant  only  and  cannot  by  a  direct  intu- 
ition turn  back  to  its  immediate  physio- 
logical antecedents  ;  and  besides,  to  de- 
scend again  to  these  material  antecedents 
were  to  lay  hold  not  of  itself  but  of  its 
cause. 

It  would  be  for  the  present  chimerical 
to  undertake  to  define  even  roughly  the 
necessary  and  sufficient  conditions  of  the 
apparition  of  consciousness.  We  know 
that  the  cerebral  circulation,  as  regards 
the  quantity  and  the  quality  of  the  blood, 
has  a  good  deal  to  do  with  the  case.  Of 
this  we  have  striking  proof  in  experi- 
ments made  on  the  heads  of  animals  im- 
mediately after  decapitation.  So  too  we 
know  that  the  duration  of  the  nervous 
processes  in  the  centers  is  an  important 
point.  Psychometric  research  daily  shows 
that  a  state  of  consciousness  takes  longer 
time  in  proportion  to  its  greater  complex- 
ity, and  that  on  the  other  hand  automatic 
acts,  whether  primordial  or  acquired,  the 
rapidity  of  which  is  extreme,  do  not  en- 
ter the  consciousness.  It  may  also  be 
affirmed  that  the  apparition  of  conscious- 


ness is  connected  with  the  period  of  the 
disassimilation  of  nerve  tissue,  as  Herzen 
has  shown  in  detail.*  But  all  these  re- 
sults are  but  partial  gains,  while  a  scien- 
tific account  of  the  genesis  of  a  phenom- 
enon requires  a  determination  of  all  its 
essential  conditions. 

This  the  future  will  yield  perhaps.  In 
the  mean  time  we  shall  best  strengthen 
our  hypothesis  by  showing  that  it  alone 
explains  one  highly  important  character 
— and  not  merely  a  condition — of  con- 
sciousness, namely  its  intermittence.  To 
avoid  all  misunderstanding  at  the  outset, 
be  it  noted  that  the  question  is  not  as  to 
the  discontinuity  of  states  of  conscious- 
ness with  one  another.  Each  has  its 
limits  which,  while  they  allow  it  to  be  as- 
sociated with  others,  preserve  its  own  in- 
dividuality. Not  of  this  do  we  speak, 
but  of  the  well  known  fact  that  con- 
sciousness has  interruptions  :  in  ordinary 
language,  a  man  is  not  always  thinking. 

True  it  is,  that  this  assertion  has  been 
contradicted  by  the  majority  of  rAetaphy- 
sicians.  But  they  have  never  furnished 
proof  in  support  of  their  thesis  ;  and,-as 
all  the  facts  apparently  are  against  it,  the 
burden  of  proof  seems  to  lie  upon  its  ad- 
vocates. Their  whole  argument  is  in 
effect  that  since  the  soul  is  essentially  a 
thing  that  thinks,  consciousness  must 
needs  always  exist  in  some  degree,  even 
though  no  trace  of  it  subsists  in  the  mem- 
ory. But  this  is  simply  begging  the  ques- 
tion, for  the  hypothesis  we  maintain  chal- 
lenges their  major  premise.  Their  alleged 
proof  is,  after  all,  only  an  inference 
drawn  from  a  contested  hypothesis. 

.  Let  us  put  aside  all  a  priori  solutions 
and  look  at  the  question  as  it  is  in  itself. 
Let  us  consider,  not  cases  of  syncope, 
artificial  anaesthesia,  epileptic  vertigo,  co- 
ma, etc.,  but  the  familiar  and  frequently 
occurring  psychic  state  of  sleep.  It  has 
been  asserted  that  sleep  is  never  dream- 
less ;  but  that  is  a  purely  theoretic  asser- 
tion, based  on  the  thesis  that  the  soul  is 
ever  thinking.  The  only  fact  that  can 
be  cited  in  support  of  this  proposition  is 
that  sometimes  a  sleeper,  when  called  or 
questioned,  responds  in  suitable  fashion, 
but  on  waking  has  no  recollection  of  the 
occurrence.  But  this  fact  does  not  justi- 
fy a  general  conclusion,  and  the  theory 
of  the  metaphysicians  is  met  by  the 
physiologists  with  another.  Physiology 
teaches  us  that  the  life  of  every  organ 
comprises  two  periods,  one  of  compara- 


*La  Condizione  fisica  delta  Conscienza.    Roma, 
1879. 


4 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


tive  repose,  or  of  assimilation,  the  other 
of  activity,  or  of  disassimilation  ;  that  the 
brain  presents  no  exception  to  this  law, 
and  that  experience  shows  the  duration 
of  sleep,  in  the  several  epochs  and  circum- 
stances of  life,  to  be  in  direct  ratio  to  the 
need  of  assimilation.  The  cause  of  sleep 
is  the  necessity  of  repairing  losses,  of 
making  the  nutritive  circulation  succeed 
to  the  functional  circulation.  In  wake- 
fulness,  the  brain  burns  up  more  material 
than  is  given  to  it  by  the  blood,  so  that 
oxidation  soon  grows  less,  and  with  it  the 
CKcitability  of  the  nerve  tissue.  Preyer's 
experiments  show  that  sleep  comes  when, 
in  consequence  of  prolonged  activity,  the 
substance  of  the  brain,  like  that  of  a 
fatigued  muscle,  finds  itself  overloaded 
with  a  certain  quantity  of  acid  detritus. 
The  very  presence  of  these  products  ar- 
rests, at  a  given  moment,  the  cerebral 
activity,  which  does  not  reappear  till  re- 
pose has  allowed  complete  elimination  of 
these  waste  matters.  *  It  must  be  ad- 
mitted that  complete1  absolute  sleep, 
without  any  dream,  is  the  exception  ;  but 
that  such  sleep  occurs,  and  that  not  rarely, 
is  sufficient  to  establish  the  intermittent 
character  of  consciousness. 

The  physiological  thesis  possesses  a 
probative  value  very  different  from,  and 
much  stronger  than,  that  of  the  meta- 
physical thesis.  And  it  must  be  remem- 
bered— an  important  point — that  all  those 
vrho  have  investigated  the  question 
whether  there  exists  perfect  cerebral  sleep, 
are  men  of  cultivated  and  active  minds — 
psychologists,  physicians,  literary  men — 
in  whom  the  brain  is  ever  wakeful,  vi- 
brating like  a  sensitive  musical  instru- 
ment in  response  to  the  slightest  excita- 
tion :  in  them  consciousness  is  a  habit, 
so  to  speak.  Those  who  put  to  them- 
selves the  question  whether  sleep  is  al- 
ways accompanied  by  dreams,  are,  in  fact, 
the  ones  least  fitted  to  give  a  reply  in  the 
negative.  Among  hand  workers,  this  is 
not  the  case.  A  farm-laborer  living  re- 
mote from  all  intellectual  agitation,  ever 
restricted  to  the  same  occupations,  to  the 
same  routine,  usually  does  not  dream, 
know  several  peasants  who  look  on  a 
dream  as  a  rare  occurrence  in  their  hours 
ef  sleep. 

"  The  most  convincing  proof  that  the  mind 
can  be  completely  inactive  during  sleep — 
that  it  can  have  its  existence  momentarily  in- 


*  By  absorbing  a.  certain  quantity  of  lactate  9! 
soda,  taken  as  a  type  of  disassimilation  products  in 
the  brain,  Preyer  produced  yawning,  somnolence 
and  even  sleep. 


:errupted  or  suspended — would  indisputably 
>e  afforded  if  the  instant  of  falling  asleep 
hould  connect  immediately  with  the  instant 
of  awaking,  and  if  the  intervening  time 
should  be  as  though  it  had  not  been.  The 
jhilosophers  who  do  not  believe  in  perfect 
sleep  have  themselves  pointed  out  this  test,, 
at  the  same  time  declaring  that  it  has  never 
jeen  verified.  But  I  have  been  witness  of 
the  fact  under  the  following  circumstances  : 
One  morning,  at  2  o'clock,  I  was  called  to 
attend  a  person  in  the  neigborhood  attacked 
by  cholera.  As  I  was  about  to  go  out,  my 
wife  gave  me  some  direction  about  the  can- 
dle I  held  in  my  hand,  and  then  fell  asleep. 
I  came  back  after  about  half  an  hour  The 
noise  of  the  key  turning  in  the  lock  as  I 
opened  the  door,  awakened  my  wife  suddenly. 
So  deep  had  been  her  sleep,  so  close  was  the 
conjunction  of  the  moment  when  she  fell 
asleep,  with  the  moment  when  she  was  awak- 
ened, that  she  supposed  she  had  not  slept  at 
all,  and  that  she  took  the  sound  of  the  key 
upon  my  return,  for  the  same  sound  at  my 
going.  Seeing  me  re-enter,  she  believed  I 
was  simply  turning  back  on  my  steps,  and 
asked  me  the  reason ;  great  was  her  aston- 
ishment on  learning  that  I  had  been  absent 
half  an  hour."  t 

I  know  not  how  facts  of  this  kind  can 
be  met,  except  by  falling  back  upon  the 
inevitable  hypothesis  of  states  of  con- 
sciousness that  have  left  no  trace  in  the 
memory  :  but  that  hypothesis,  I  repeat, 
is  gratuitous  and  improbable.  Those 
who  are  subject  to  fits  of  swooning  with 
loss  of  consciousness,  know  by  experience 
that,  while  the  fit  is  on,  they  may  suffer  a 
fall  or  contusion  of  a  member,  or  over- 
turn a  chair,  and,  yet,  on  coming  to  them- 
selves, have  no  idea  of  what  has  hap- 
pened. Is  it  likely  that  these  rather  se- 
rious accidents,  had  they  been  accompa- 
nied by  consciousness,  would  have  left  no 
memory  lasting  at  least  a  few  seconds. 
I  do  not  in  any  wise  deny  that  in  certain 
circumstances,  whether  normal  or  morbid, 
— for  instance,  in  hypnotism — states  of 
consciousness  that  leave  no  trace  appar- 
ent at  the  awakening,  may  later  be  re- 
called ;  I  will  restrict  as  much  as  any  one 
may  wish,  the  cases  of  complete  interrup- 
tion of  consciousness  ;  but  one  single 
case  suffices  to  raise  up  insuperable  diffi- 
culties against  the  hypothesis  of  the  soul 
being  substance  which  thinks.  On  the 
opposite  hypothesis,  all  is  easily  explained. 
If  consciousness  is  an  occurrence  depend- 


t  Despine,  Psychologic  Naturelle,  I.,  p.  522. 
Writers  on  insanity  mention  cases  where,  a  patho- 
logical state  suppressing  consciousness  abruptly, 
the  patient,  after  a  longer  or  shorter  interval,  re- 
sumes his  conversation  at  the  word  where  he  had 
been  stricken.  See  other  facts  of  like  nature  ia 
Winslow,  On  Obscure  Diseases,  etc.,  p.  322  et  seq. 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


ent  on  determinate  conditions,  it  need 
not  surprise  us  if  sometimes  it  is  wanting. 
Were  this  the  place  to  discuss  the 
question  of  consciousness  thoroughly,  we 
might  show  that  on  our  hypothesis  the 
relation  of  the  conscious  to  the  uncon- 
scious is  no  longer  unsettled  or  contra- 
dictory. The  term  unconscious  may  al- 
ways be  expressed  by  this  periphrasis  : 
A  physiological  state  which,  though 
sometimes,  and  even  most  frequently  it 
is  accompanied  by  consciousness,  or  may 
have  been  so  accompanied  originally,  is 
at  present  not  accompanied  by  conscious- 
ness. This  characterization,  though  neg- 
ative as  regards  psychology,  is  positive 
as  regards  physiology.  It  declares  that 
in  every  psychic  happening  the  funda- 
mental, active  element,  is  the  nervous 
process,  and  that  the  other  is  but  con- 
comitant. Consequently  it  is  easy  to 
see  that  all  of  the  manifestations  of  psy- 
chic life  may  be  unconscious  and  con- 
scious by  turns :  for  the  former  case 
there  is  required  (and  this  suffices)  a 
determinate  nervous  process,  that  is  to 
say,  the  calling  into  action  of  a  determi- 
nate number  of  nerve  elements  forming 
a  determinate  association,  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  all  other  nerve  elements  and  of 
all  other  possible  associations.  For  the 
second  case  it  is  required  (and  this 
suffices)  that  supplementary  conditions 
of  whatever  kind  be  added,  without 
changing  aught  in  the  nature  of  the 
phenomenon,  save  to  render  it  conscious. 
And  here  we  see  how  unconscious  cere- 
bration does  so  much  work  quietly,  and 
how,  oftentimes  after  protracted  incuba- 
tion, it  manifests  itself  by  unexpected 
results.  Each  state  of  consciousness 
represents  only  a  very  small  part  of  our 
psychic  life,  for  unconscious  states  ever 
underlie  it  and  as  it  were  thrust  it  for- 
ward. Every  volition,  for  instance,  has 
roots  deep  down  in  our  being ;  the  mo- 
tives that  accompany  and  apparently  ex- 
plain it  are  never  more  than  a  part  of  the 
true  cause.  So  it  is  with  many  of  our 
sympathies ;  and  so  evident  is  this  fact, 
that  minds  most  deficient  in  observation 
often  wonder  that  they  cannot  account 
for  their  likes  and  dislikes. 

It  were  tedious  as  well  as  needless  to 
pursue  this  demonstration  farther.  Should 
the  reader  wish  to  do  so  he  may  consult,  in 
Hartmann's  Philosophy  of  the  Uncon- 
scious, the  section  entitled  "  Phenomenol- 
ogy." There  he  will  find  classified  all 
the  manifestations  of  the  mind's  uncon- 
scious life,  and  he  will  see  that  there  is 
not  one  fact  that  is  not  explained  by  the 


hypothesis  here  maintained.  Let  him 
then  apply  to  the  same  facts  the  other 
hypothesis. 


One  point  more  remains  to  be  con- 
sidered. The  theory  which  regards  con- 
sciousness as  a  phenomenon,  and  which 
springs  (as  could  be  shown  were  the  di- 
gression allowable  here)  from  that  funda- 
mental principle  in  physiology  that  "  re- 
flex a<?tion  is  the  type  of  nerve  action  and 
the  basis  of  all  psychic  activity,"  to  many 
sound  intellects  appears  paradoxical  and 
irreverent.  They  think  it  robs  psychol- 
ogy of  all  stability  and  dignity.  They 
are  loath  to  admit  that  all  the  highest 
manifestations  of  nature  are  instable, 
fleeting,  superadded,  and,  as  regards  their 
conditions  of  existence,  subordinate. 
But  that  is  only  a  prejudice.  Conscious- 
ness, whatever  be  its  origin,  and  its  na- 
ture, loses  naught  of  its  value ;  it  is  to  be 
esteemed  for  what  it  is  in  itself ;  and  for 
the  one  who  takes  the  evolution  point  of 
view,  it  is  not  the  origin  that  is  of  im- 
portance but  the  height  attained.  Ex- 
perience too  teaches  us  that  as  we 
ascend  in  the  series,  natural  compounds 
are  more  and  more  complex  and  instable. 
Were  stability  to  measure  dignity  the, 
highest  place  would  belong  to  minerals. 
This  objection  then,  a  purely  sentimental 
one,  is  inadmissible.  As  for  the  diffi- 
culty of  explaining  on  this  hypothesis 
the  unity  and  continuity  of  the  conscious 
subject,  it  is  not  yet  time  to  speak  of  it. 
It  will  be  considered  in  due  course. 

But  the  hypothesis  of  consciousness  as 
phenomenon  has  a  weak  side  :  its  sincer- 
est  partisans  have  maintained  it  under  a 
form  that  has  won  for  them  the  title  of 
advocates  of  absolute  automatism.  They 
are  wont  to  compare  consciousness  to  a 
ray  of  light  from  the  furnace  of  a  steam- 
engine  that  lights  up  the  machine  but 
has  no  effect  whatever  on  its  work ;  ac- 
cording to  them  consciousness  has  no 
more  action  than  the  shadow  that  ac- 
companies the  wayfarer's  steps.  If  these 
similes  have  no  purpose  save  to  express 
the  doctrine  in  a  telling  way,  there  is 
nothing  to  say ;  but  taken  in  their  strict 
sense  they  are  exaggerated  and  inexact. 
Consciousness  in  itself  and  by  itself  is  a 
new  factor ;  and  in  this  there  is  nothing 
mystical  nor  supernatural,  as  we  shall 
see. 

In  the  first  place,  from  the  hypothesis 
itself,  a  state  of  consciousness  supposing 
a  greater  number  of  physiological  con- 
ditions (or  at  least  different  ones)  than 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


does  the  same  state  when  it  remains  un- 
conscious, it  follows  that  two  individuals, 
one  of  them  in  the  former  state,  the  other 
in  the  latter,  are  not,  other  things  being 
equal,  strictly  comparable. 

Stronger  proofs  still  remain — not  logi- 
cal deductions  but  facts.  When  a  phys- 
iological state  is  become  a  state  of  con- 
sciousness, it  thereby  acquires  a  special 
character.  Before,  it  had  relation  to 
space,  and  could  be  conceived  of  as  the 
calling  into  action  of  a  certain  number  of 
nerve  elements  occupying  a  determinate 
superficies  :  but  now  it  takes  a  position  in 
time— comes  after  this,  follows  that, 
whereas  for  unconscious  states  there  is 
neither  before  nor  after.  It  now  is 
capable  of  being  recalled,  /.  e.,  recognized 
as  having  occupied  a  definite  position 
among  other  states  of  consciousness. 
Hence  it  is  become  a  new  factor  in  the 
individual's  psychic  life,  a  result  that  may 
serve  as  a  starting  point  for  some  new 
work  whether  conscious  or  unconscious  ; 
and  so  far  is  it  from  being  the  product  of 
a  supernatural  operation  that  at  bottom 
it  is  simply  a  case  of  that  organic  regis- 
tration which  underlies  all  memory. 

To  reach  greater  clearness  let  us  take 
a  few  examples.  Volition  is  always  a 
state  of  consciousness :  it  says  that  a 
thing  should  be  done  or  prevented.  It  is 
the  final  and  definite  result  of  a  multitude 
of  states,  conscious,  semi-conscious,  and 
unconscious  ;  but  once  affirmed,  the  voli- 
tion becomes  in  the  individual's  life  a  new 
factor.  The  resolution  taken  marks  a  se- 
quence, and  it  is  capable  of  being  recom- 
menced, or  modified,  or  inhibited.  Au- 
tomatic acts  unaccompanied  by  conscious- 
ness do  not  admit  of  anything  like  this. 
Novelists  and  poets,  accurate  observers  ol 
human  nature,  have  often  noted  the  situ- 
ation where  a  passion — love  or  hate — af- 
ter lying  for  a  long  time  latent  and  un- 
conscious, at  last  comes  to  the  light,  as- 
sumes definite  form,  becomes  conscious 
Its  character  is  then  changed ;  it  acquires 
increased  intensity,  or  it  is  overpowered 
by  other  antagonistic  passions.  Here 
again  consciousness  is  a  new  factor  that 
has  modified  the  psychological  situation 
Take  another  example.  One  may  by  in 
stinct,  that  is  by  unconscious  cerebration 
solve  a  problem,  yet  quite  possibly  at  an 
other  time  he  may  be  stalled  by  a  similar 
problem.  If  on  the  other  hand  the  solu- 
tion is  reached  through  conscious  reason- 
ing, difficulty  with  the  second  problem  i 
far  less  probable,  for  each  step  forward  is 
a  new  position  won,  and  thereafter  we  no 
longer  walk  as  blind.  But  this  in  no 


wise  belittles  the  part  played  in  invention 
and  discovery  by  the  unconscious  work  of 
he  brain. 

These  examples,  taken  at  random,  suf- 
ice  to  show  that  the  similes  mentioned 
above  are  true  with  respect  to  ever)-  state 
of  consciousness  in  itself.  It  is  indeed 
n  itself  only  a  light  that  makes  visible 
unconscious  work  :  but  viewed  in  its  re- 
ation  to  the  future  development  of  the 
ndividual  it  is  a  factor  of  the  highest  im- 
portance. 

And  what  is  true  of  the  individual  is 
true  also  of  the  species  and  of  the  succes- 
ion  of  species.  Considered  merely  with 
reference  to  the  survival  of  the  fittest,  and 
quite  apart  from  all  psychological  consid- 
erations, the  apparition  of  consciousness 
upon  the  earth  was  an  event  of  prime  con- 
sequence. Thereby  was  made  possible 
for  the  animal  world  experience,  /'.<?., 
a  higher  order  of  adaptation.  Wherein 
consciousness  had  its  origin  we  need  not 
inquire.  Some  highly  ingenious  hypoth- 
eses have  been  put  forward  upon  the  sub- 
ject— hypotheses  that  enter  the  domain 
of  metaphysic — but  these  experimental 
psychology  need  not  discuss,  for  it  as- 
sumes consciousness  as  a  datum.  It  is 
probable  that  consciousness,  like  every 
other  manifestation  of  life,  first  made  its 
appearance  in  a  rudimentary  form,  and 
seemingly  with  poor  endowment.  But 
when  it  had  become  capable  of  establish- 
ing in  the  animal  a  memory  in  the  psy- 
chic sense,  so  enabling  it  to  bank  upon  its 
past  for  the  benefit  of  the  futur.e,  there 
was  a  new  chance  of  survival.  To  un- 
conscious, blind,  accidental  adaptation, 
dependent  on  the  environment,  there  was 
added  a  conscious,  coherent  adaptation 
dependent  on  the  animal  itself,  and  more 
steady  and  more  rapid  than  the  other  :  it 
curtailed  the  labor  of  selection. 

The  part  of  consciousness,  then,  in  the 
development  of  psychic  life  is  plain.  I 
have  dwelt  upon  this  point  because  the 
supporters  of  the  hypothesis  here  main- 
tained have  usually  studied  consciousness 
only  as  it  actually  exists,  not  noting  suffi- 
ciently the  result  of  its  apparition.  They 
rightly  say  that  it  illumines,  but  they  have 
not  shown  that  it  brings  something  addi- 
tional. Consciousness,  I  repeat,  is  in  it- 
self only  phenomenon,  an  accompaniment. 
If  there  exist  animals  in  which  conscious- 
ness appears  and  disappears  every  mo- 
ment, leaving  no  trace,  these  are  mental 
automata  in  the  strictest  sense  :  but  if  the 
state  of  consciousness  leaves  a  residuum, 
an  enregistration  in  the  organism,  then  it 
acts  not  only  as  an  indicator  but  as  a  con- 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


densator ;  and  the  metaphor  of  the  au- 
tomaton is  no  longer  valid.  This  ad- 
mitted, many  of  the  objections  to  the  the- 
ory of  consciousness  as  a  phenomenon 
fall  to  the  ground. 


CHAPTER  II. 

ORGANIC   DISTURBANCE. 

I  SHALL  treat  at  length  of  the  organic 
conditions  of  personality,  for  on  these  all 
depends  and  these  explain  all  the  rest. 
Metaphysical  psychology  has  hardly  taken 
any  notice  of  them,  therein  showing  logi- 
cal consistency,  for  in  its  view  the  Me 
comes  from  above  not  from  beneath. 
We  on  the  other  hand  must  seek  the  ele- 
ments of  personality  in  the  most  ele- 
mental phenomena  of  life :  these  confer 
upon  it  its  distinctive  character.  The 
"  organic  sense,"  the  "  sense  of  the  body  " 
— a  sense  with  us  vague  and  obscure  gen- 
erally, though  at  times  very  well  defined 
— is  for  each  animal  the  basis  of  its  psy- 
chical individuality.*  This  is  that  "  prin- 
ciple of  individuation "  so  much  sought 
after  by  the  scholastic  philosophers,  for 
on  it  directly  or  indirectly  all  depends. 
It  may  be  regarded  as  highly  probable 
that  as  we  descend  toward  the  lower  an- 
imals, the  organic  sense  becomes  more 
and  more  dominant  till  it  becomes  the 
whole  psychic  individuality.  But  in  man 
and  in  the  higher  animals  the  bustling 
world  of  desires,  passions,  perceptions, 
images,  ideas,  overlies  this  voiceless 
deep  :  save  at  intervals  we  forget  it  be- 
cause we  ignore  it.  It  is  as  with  facts  of 
the  social  order.  The  millions  of  human 
beings  that  make  up  a  great  nation  are 
for  itself  and  the  rest  of  the  world  reduced 
to  a  few  thousand  men  who,  so  to  speak, 
are  its  clear  consciousness,  and  who  rep- 
resent its  social  activity  in  every  phase — 
political,  industrial,  commercial,  intellect- 
ual. Still  it  is  the  millions  of  common 
people,  ignored,  leading  a  narrow,  local 
life,  living  and  dying  unnoticed,  that  con- 
stitute the  nation's  mass  :  without  them 
it  is  nothing.  They  are  the  inexhaustible 
reserve  out  of  which,  by  natural  selection, 


*  It  may  be  remarked  in  passing  that  a  great 
metaphysician,  Spinoza,  clearly  maintains  the  same 
thesis,  though  in  different  terms.  "  The  object  of 
the  idea  that  constitutes  the  human  soul  is  the 
body.  .  .  and  nothing  but  the  body." — "The  idea 
which  constitutes  the  formal  being  of  the  human 
soul  is  not  simple  but  made  up  of  many  ideas." 
Ethics  Part  II.,  Props.  13  and  15. 


a  few  emerge,  rising  to  the  surface ,  but 
these,  however  endowed  with  talent, 
power,  or  wealth,  have  only  an  ephem- 
eral existence.  The  degenerescence  nat- 
urally inherent  in  whatever  rises  above 
the  general  level  will  lower  them  or  their 
descendants,  while  the  mute  toil  of  the 
millions  who  live  ignored  will  continue 
to  produce  others  and  to  imprint  a  char- 
acter upon  them. 

Metaphysical  psychology  notes  only 
the  summits  of  the  prospect,  and  inner 
observation  has  but  little  to  tell  of  what 
takes  place  within  the  body ;  hence  the 
study  of  the  general  sensibility  has  been 
from  the  first  the  special  work  of  physiol- 
ogists. 

Henle  (1840)  thus  defines  general  sen- 
sibility, or  "  coenaesthesis  "  :  It  is,  he  says, 
the  tonus  of  the  nerves  of  sensation,  or 
the  perception  of  the  state  of  activity  in 
which  these  nerves  constantly  exist,  even 
at  moments  when  no  impression  from 
without  is  acting  upon  them."  "  It  is," 
says  he  in  another  place,  "  the  sum,  the 
indiscriminated  chaos  of  the  sensations 
that  are  continually  coming  into  the  sen- 
sorium  from  all  parts  of  the  body."  t  E. 
H.  Weber,  with  greater  precision,  defines 
coenassthesis  to  be  an  inner  sensibility,  an 
inner  touch,  which  informs  the  senso- 
rium  of  the  mechanical  and  chemico-or- 
ganic  state  of  the  skin,  the  mucous  and 
serous  membranes,  the  viscera,  the  mus- 
cles, the  joints. 

Louis  Peisse,  a  physician  and  a  phi- 
losopher, was  the  first  man  in  France  to 
combat  the  teaching  of  Jouffroy  who 
held  that  we  know  not  our  own  bodies 
save  objectively,  as  an  extended,  solid 
mass  like  all  other  bodies ;  lying  outside 
of  the  Me,  and  alien  to  the  percipient 
subject  as  any  strictly  external  object 
might  be —  as  a  table  or  a  chair.  Peisse 
showed,  though  rather  timidly,  that  our 
knowledge  of  our  own  bodies  is  above  all 
subjective.  His  description  of  this  or- 
ganic consciousness  seems  to  me  so  exact 
that  I  quote  it  entire. 

"  Is  it  true  "  he  says,  "  that  we  have  abso- 
lutely no  consciousness  of  the  exercise  of  the 
organic  functions  ?  If  you  mean  clear,  dis- 
tinct, locally  determinable  consciousness,  like 
our  consciousness  of  external  impressions, 
plainly  it  is  lacking :  but  we  may  have  a  faint, 
indistinct,  so  to  speak,  a  latent,  conscious- 
ness of  it ;  for  instance  such  a  consciousness 
as  we  have  of  the  sensations  that  call  forth 
and  accompany  the  respiratory  movements — 


.  t  Pathologische   Untersuchungen^    p.   114.    All~ 
gemeine  A  natomie,  p.   728. 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


sensations  which  though  continually  repeated 
pass  unnoticed  as  it  were.  May  we  not  in- 
deed regard  as  a  distant,  faint,  confused  echo 
of  the  general  vital  work  the  peculiar  feeling 
which  continuously  and  unremittingly  makes 
us  aware  of  the  presence  and  actual  exist- 
ence of  our  own  body  ?  This  feeling  has 
nearly  always,  but  erroneously,  been  con- 
founded with  the  chance  local  impressions 
which  during  wakefulness  arouse,  stimulate, 
and  keep  up  the  action  of  the  sensibility. 
These  sensations,  though  incessant,  appear 
but  for  a  moment  on  the  stage  of  conscious- 
ness and  pass  away,  whereas  the  feeling  of 
which  we  speak  endures  and  persists  beneath 
this  shifting  scenery.  Condillac  properly 
enough  called  it  '  the  fundamental  feeling  of 
existence,'  and  Maine  de  Biran  the  feeling 
of  sensitive  existence.  Through  it  the  body 
is  ever  present  to  the  Me  as  its  own  ,  through 
it  the  spiritual  subject  feels  and  knows  itself 
•to  exist  in  some  sort  locally  in  the  limited 
•extension  of  the  organism.  It  is  a  never-fail- 
ing remembrancer,  rendering  the  state  of 
the  body  ever  present  to  consciousness ; 
thus  does  it  most  clearly  show  the  indis- 
soluble tie  between  psychic  and  physiological 
life.  In  the  ordinary  state  of  equilibrium 
-which  constitutes  perfect  health  this  feeling 
is  continuous,  uniform,  and  always  equable  ; 
and  just  because  it  is  thus  continuous,  uni- 
form and  equable  it  does  not  enter  the  Me 
as  a  distinct  specific,  local  sensation.  In  or- 
der to  be  distinctly  noted,  it  must  gain  a  cer- 
tain intensity ;  then  it  expresses  itself  by  a 
vague  impression  of  general  well-being  or 
general  discomfort,  the  former  state  indicat- 
ing a  simple  exaltation  of  physiological  vital 
action,  the  latter  betraying  a  pathological  per- 
version of  the  vital  economy,  but  in  this  case 
it  soon  becomes  localized  in  the  shape  of  par- 
ticular sensations  referred  to  one  or  another 
part  of  the  body.  Sometimes  it  manifests  it- 
self in  a  more  indirect  way,  yet  far  more 
clearly,  when  it  chances  to  fail  at  any  given 
point  in  the  organism,  as  for  example  in 
a  member  stricken  by  paralysis.  The 
stricken  member  still  belongs  by  nature  to 
the  living  aggregate,  but  it  is  no  longer  with- 
in the  sphere  of  the  organic  Me,  if  we  may 
use  that  phrase.  This  Me  no  longer  per- 
ceives it  as  its  own,  and  the  fact  of  this  sep- 
.aration,  though  negative,  is  the  object  of  a 
special  positive  sensation  familiar  to  every 
one  that  knows  what  it  is  to  suffer  total 
numbness  in  any  part  of  the  body,  as  a  re- 
sult of  cold  or  of  compression  of  the  nerves. 
This  sensation  is  nothing  else  but  the  expres- 
sion of  a  break  in  the  general  feeling  of  the 
bodily  life  :  it  shows  that  the  vital  state  of 
the  member  was  really,  though  obscurely, 
felt,  and  that  it  constituted  one  of  the  partial 
elements  of  the  general  feeling  of  the  entire 
organism's  life.  A  continuous,  monotonous 
noise,  as  that  made  by  a  wagon  in  which  one 
is  riding,  is  not  noticed  though  constantly 
heard;  for  should  it  cease  abruptly  its  cessa- 
tion would  be  noted  instantly.  The  analogy 
may  enable  us  to  understand  the  nature 


and  characteristics  of  the  fundamental  feel- 
ing of  organic  life,  which  on  this  hypothesis 
would  be  simply  the  resultant  in  conftiso  of  the 
impressions  produced  at  every  point  of  the 
living  organism  by  the  action  of  the  several 
physiological  functions,  these  impressions 
being  carried  to  the  brain  either  directly  by 
the  cerebro-spinal  nerves,  or  indirectly  by  the 
nerves  of  the  ganglionic  system."  * 

Since  the  publication  of  these  views 
(1844)  physiologists  and  psychologists 
have  been  studying  the  elements  of  this 
general  sense  of  the  body.  They  have 
determined  what  contribution  is  made  to 
the  result  by  each  vital  function ;  they 
have  shown  how  complex  this  confused 
sense  of  life  is  which  by  incessant  repeti- 
tion is  become  our  own  selves,  so  that  to 
examine  into  it  is  to  examine  into  our- 
selves. But  we  know  it  only  through  the 
variations  that  lift  it  above  the  normal 
tone  or  lower  it  beneath  the  same.  In 
special  treatises  may  be  found  full  details 
of  these  vital  functions  and  their  psychic 
bearings  ;  such  details  are  not  called  for 
here,  and  it  suffices  if  I  give  a  very  gen- 
eral view  of  them. 

First  we  have  the  organic  sensations 
connected  with  respiration,  the  sense  of 
well-being  produced  by  a  pure  atmos- 
phere, of  suffocation  in  confined  air ;  then 
the  sensations  that  come  from  the  alimen- 
tary canal ;  and  others,  that  are  still  more 
general,  connected  with  the  state  of 
the  nutrition.  Hunger  and  thirst,  for 
example,  appearances  to  the  contrary 
notwithstanding,  have  no  precise  local 
seat :  they  result  from  a  feeling  of  dis- 
comfort diffused  throughout  the  entire 
organism :  the  impoverished  blood  is 
craving  something.  And  as  regards 
thirst  in  particular,  Claude  Bernard's  ex- 
periments have  shown  that  it  comes  of  a 
lack  of  water  in  the  organism,  not  from 
dryness  of  the  pharynx.  Of  all  the  func- 
tions, the  general  and  local  circulation  is 
perhaps  the  one  whose  psychological  in- 
fluence is  greatest,  and  whose  variations 
between  individuals  and  at  successive 
moments  in  the  same  individual  are  most 
striking.  Then  consider  the  organic 
sensations  resulting  from  the  state  of  the 
muscles — the  sense  of  fatigue  and  ex- 
haustion, or  the  reverse ;  finally,  those 
muscular  sensations  which,  being  asso- 
ciated with  the  external  sensations  of 
sight  and  touch,  play  so  large  a  part  in 
our  cognitions.  In  fact  the  muscular 
sensibility,  in  its  purely  subjective  form, 


*  Note   to   his  edition  of  Cabanis's  Rapports  du 
Physique  et  du  Moral,  pp.  108,  109. 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


by  itself  alone  makes  known  to  us  the 
degree  of  contraction  or  relaxation  of  the 
muscles,  the  position  of  our  members, 
etc.  I  purposely  omit  the  organic  sensa- 
tions of  the  genital  apparatus :  to  that 
subject  we  will  return  in  treating  of  the 
affective  bases  of  personality. 

Let  the  reader  for  a  moment  consider 
the  multitude  and  the  diversity  of  the 
vital  actions  just  now  summarily  classed 
under  their  most  general  heads,  and  he 
will  form  some  conception  of  what  is 
meant  by  the  phrase  "  physical  bases  of 
personality."  Being  ever  in  action,  they 
make  up  by  their  continuousness  for  their 
weakness  as  psychic  elements.  And 
then  too,  when  the  higher  forms  of  the 
mental  life  disappear,  these  organic  sen- 
sations come  forward  in  the  first  rank. 
A  very  clear  instance  of  this  is  found  in 
dreams,  whether  pleasurable  or  other- 
wise, prompted  by  the  organic  sensations 
— erotic  dreams,  nightmare,  etc.  We  are 
even  able  to  assign  with  some  degree  of 
precision  to  each  organ  its  special  part  in 
dreams :  the  sensation  of  weight  seems 
specially  attached  to  digestive  and  respi- 
ratory affections  ;  dreams  of  struggling 
and  fighting  accompany  affections  of  the 
heart.  Sometimes  pathological  sensa- 
tions, unnoticed  in  wakefulness,  make 
their  impression  during  sleep,  and  thus 
become  premonitory  symptoms.  Armand 
de  Villeneuve  dreams  that  he  is  bitten  on 
the  leg  by  a  dog  :  a  few  days  after,  the 
leg  is  attacked  by  a  cancerous  ulcer. 
Gessner  imagines  during  sleep  that  he  is 
bitten  on  the  left  side  by  a  serpent : 
shortly  afterward,  an  anthrax  appeared 
at  the  same  spot,  from  which  he  died. 
Macario  dreams  that  he  has  a  violent  pain 
in  the  throat,  but  awakes  entirely  well ; 
a  few  hours  later  he  was  suffering  from  a 
severe  amygdalitis.  A  man  sees  in  his 
dream  an  epileptic :  a  little  while  later  he 
has  an  attack  of  epilepsy.  A  woman 
dreams  of  speaking  to  a  man  who  cannot  i 
make  her  any  reply,  being  dumb :  on ' 
awaking  she  could  not  speak  a  word.  In 
all  these  cases  we  recognize  as  facts  the 
obscure  beckonings  from  the  depths  of 
the  organism  to  the  nerve  centers  ;  but 
the  conscious  life,  with  its  hubbub  and  its 
constant  bustle,  suppresses  instead  of  de- 
veloping them. 

It  is  plain  that  psychology,  by  giving 
exclusive  credit  for  so  long  a  time  to  the 
data  of  consciousness,  must  needs  have 
cast  into  the  shade  the  organic  elements 
of  personality :  physicians,  on  the  other 
hand,  were  under  a  professional  obliga- 
tion to  give  weight  to  the  latter.  The 


doctrine  of  temperaments,  as  ancient  as 
medicine  itself,  a  doctrine  that  is  ever 
criticised,  ever  worked  over  again,*  is  the 
vague,  fluctuating  expression  of  the  prin- 
cipal types  of  the  physical  personality,  as 
given  by  experience,  with  the  chief  psychic 
traits  that  result  from  it.  Hence  the  few 
psychologists  who  have  studied  the  sev- 
eral types  of  character  have  looked  here 
for  their  basis.  Thus  did  Kant  more 
than  a  century  ago.  If  the  determination 
of  the  temperaments  could  be  made  on  a 
scientific  basis,  the  question  of  personality 
would  be  greatly  simplified.  In  the 
mean  time,  the  first  thing  to  do  is  to  rid 
ourselves  of  the  preconceived  opinion 
that  personality  is  something  mysterious, 
heaven-descended,  without  antecedents 
in  nature.  If  we  simply  consider  the 
animals  around  us,  we  shall  have  no 
difficulty  in  seeing  that  the  difference 
between  the  horse  and  the  mule,  the 
goose  and  the  duck,  their  "  principle  of  in- 
dividuation."  can  come  only  out  of  a  dif- 
ference of  organization  and  of  adaptation 
to  environment,  with  the  psychic  conse- 
quences thence  resulting,  and  that,  with- 
in the  same  species,  the  differences  be- 
tween one  individual  and  another  must 
have  come  about  originally  in  the  same 
way.  There  is  no  reason  in  the  nature 
of  things  for  classing  man  separately :  the 
simple  fact  is  that  in  man  the  very  great 
development  of  the  intellectual  and  affec- 
tive faculties  produces  an  illusion  and 
conceals  the  fact  of  origination. 

Taking  physical  personality  to  mean 
simply  a  sense  of  the  state  of  the  organ- 
ism— a  mode  of  existence  in  which,  on  the 
hypothesis,  all  consciousness,  clear  or  ob- 
scure, original  or  recalled,  of  any  outer 
fact  is  absent,  we  ask,  Does  such  a  thing 
exist  in  nature  ?  Clearly  not  in  the  higher 
animals ;  and  it  can  be  posited  only  as  a 
highly  artificial  abstraction.  But  it  is  pro- 
bable that  this  form  of  psychic  individual- 
ity, which  is  simply  the  consciousness  the 
animal  has  of  its  own  body,  exists  in  the 
lower  species,  though  not  in  the  lowest. 

In   the    lowest  species — instance    any 


*  Quite  recently  Henle  {Anthropologiscke  Vor- 
trage  [1887],  pp.  103, 130)  has  endeavored  to  refer  the 
temperaments  to  the  different  degrees  of  activity, 
or  tonus.  of  the  sensorial  and  motor  nerves.  When 
this  degree  is  a  low  one,  we  have  the  phlegmatic 
temperament.  In  a  higher  degree,  with  rapid  ex- 
haustion of  the  nerves,  we  have  the  sanguineous 
temperament.  The  choleric  temperament  also  pre- 
supposes a  high  ionus,  but  with  persistence  of  ner- 
vous action.  The  melancholic  temperament  can 
only  be  defined  by  the  quantity  of  the  nervous 
action:  it  presupposes  a  high  tonusvrhh  a  tendency 
to  emotions  rather  than  to  will  activity. 


10 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


multicellular  organism  composed  of  cells 
that  are  all  alike — the  constitution  of  the 
organism  is  so  homogeneous  that  each 
several  element  lives  for  itself,  and  each 
has  its  own  action  and  reaction.  But 
their  sum  no  more  represents  an  individ- 
ual than  six  horses  drawing  a  wagon  con- 
stitute one  horse.  There  is  neither  coor- 
dination nor  consensus,  but  only  juxtapo- 
sition in  space.  If,  as  many  authors  do, 
we  were  to  give  to  each  cell  the  analogon 
of  a  consciousness  (which  would  be  only 
the  psychic  expression  of  its  irritability) 
we  should  then  have  consciousness  in  the 
state  of  complete  diffusion.  Between  the 
elements  there  would  be  an  incompene- 
trability  which  would  leave  the  whole 
mass  in  the  state  of  living  matter  without 
even  external  unity. 

But  higher  in  the  animal  scale,  for  in- 
stance in  the  Hydra,  observation  finds  a 
certain  consensus  among  the  actions  and 
reactions  and  a  certain  division  of  labor. 
Still  the  individuality  is  highly  precarious  : 
Trembley  cut  one  hydra  into  fifty  individ- 
uals. But  inversely  two  hydras  may  be 
made  into  one:  it  is  only  necessary  to 
turn  the  smaller  one  inside  out  and  then 
thrust  it  into  the  larger,  so  that  the  two 
endoderms  may  come  into  contact  and 
grow  together.  As  far  as  one  may  ven- 
ture an  opinion  on  so  obscure  a  subject, 
the  adaptation  of  movements  denotes  a 
certain  unity,  temporary,  instable,  at  the 
mercy  of  circumstances,  it  may  be,  but 
probably  not  without  some  faint  conscious- 
ness of  the  organism.  If  still  we  are  ob- 
serving too  low  a  stage  of  animal  life,  we 
may  at  pleasure  go  higher  to  find  the 
point  where  the  creature  has  simply  a 
consciousness  of  its  organism — organic 
consciousness.  Even  this  form  of  con- 
sciousness probably  does  not  exist  in  its 
purity,  for  as  soon  as  the  rudiments  of  spe- 
cial senses  appear,  the  animal  rises  above 
the  level  of  general  sensibility ;  and  be- 
sides, is  general  sensibility  of  itself 
enough  to  constitute  a  consciousness  ? 
We  know  that  the  human  foetus  makes 
efforts  to  free  itsfelf  from  an  inconvenient 
position,  from  the  impression  of  cold, 
from  painful  irritation ;  but  are  these 
movements  unconscious  reflex  actions  ? 

But  I  haste  to  quit  these  conjectures. 
The  undisputed  fact  is  that  organic  con- 
sciousness (t.e.  the  animal's  consciousness 
of  its  body  and  of  nought  but  its  body)  is 
vastly  preponderant  in  the  greater  part  of 
the  animal  world ;  that  it  is  in  the  in- 
verse ratio  to  the  higher  psychic  develop- 
ment ;  and  that  everywhere  and  always 
this  consciousness  of  the  organism  is  the 


basis  on  which  individuality  rests.  In 
virtue  of  it  the  whole  structure  stands  : 
without  it  the  structure  is  nought.  The 
contrary  thesis  is  unintelligible,  for  is  it 
not  through  the  organism  that  we  receive 
external  impressions,  the  materta  primct 
of  all  mental  life  ?  And  what  is  more,  is 
it  not  upon  it  that  we  find  inscribed  and 
fixed  by  heredity,  how  we  know  not,  yet,, 
as  facts  prove,  in  characters  indelible,  the 
instincts,  feelings,  aptitudes  peculiar  to- 
each  species,  to  each  individual  ? 


If  then  it.be  confessed  that  the  organic 
sensations  coming  from  the  tissues,  from, 
all  the  organs,  from  all  the  organic  move- 
ments, in  short  from  all  the  bodily  states,, 
are,  in  whatever  form,  in  whatever  fashion 
represented  in  the  sensorium,  and  if  the 
psychic  personality  is  simply  their  sum,  it 
follows  that,  like  them  and  with  them, 
the  personality  must  vary,  and  that  these 
variations  range  through  all  possible  de- 
grees, from  simple  indisposition  [malaise} 
to  total  metamorphosis  of  the  individual. 
The  phenomenon  of "  double  personality  " 
which  has  made  such  a  noise — and  I 
shall  treat  of  it  later — is  only  an  extreme 
instance.  Granted  sufficient  patience 
and  sufficient  research,  and  we  should 
find  in  mental  pathology  plenty  of  obser- 
vations to  prove  a  progression,  or  rather 
a  continuous  regression  from  the  merest 
passing  change  to  the  most  complete 
transformation  of  the  Me.  The  Me  exists 
only  on  the  condition  that  it  vary  contin- 
ually :  that  point  is  not  disputed.  As  for 
its  identity,  that  is  only  a  question  of 
number  :  it  persists  so  long  as  the  sum  of 
the  states  that  remain  relatively  fixed  is 
greater  than  the  sum  of  the  states  added 
to  or  taken  from  this  stable  group. 

At  present  we  have  to  study  only  dis- 
orders of  personality  directly  connected 
with  the  organic  sensations,  and  since  in 
itself  general  sensibility  possesses  but  an 
inconsiderable  psychic  value,  it  produces 
only  partial  disorders,  except  when  the 
transformation  is  total  or  sudden. 

We  begin  with  the  consideration  of  a 
state  hardly  to  be  called  morbid,  a  state 
probably  familiar  to  every  one  :  the  feel- 
ing of  exaltation  or  of  depression  which 
comes  upon  a  person  without  known 
cause.  The  habitual  tone  of  the  individ- 
ual changes  :  it  rises  or  falls.  In  the  nor- 
mal state  there  is  a  positive  "  euphoria  "  : 
there  is  neither  bodily  satisfaction  nor 
bodily  indisposition.  At  times,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  vital  functions  are  in 
j  a  higher  tone  :  there  is  unwonted  or- 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


ir 


ganic  activity  which  seeks  to  expend 
itself ;  every  enterprise  seems  easy, 
every  scheme  promising.  This  state 
of  satisfaction,  at  first  purely  physi- 
cal, becomes  diffused  over  the  whole 
nervous  organization,  summoning  up  a 
host  of  pleasurable  feelings  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  whatever  displeases.  The  subject 
sees  everything  in  a  rosy  light.  Again 
the  reverse  condition  obtains  :  a  state  of 
indisposition,  depression,  inertia  and 
helplessness,  and  consequent  upon  this  a 
feeling  of  gloom,  apprehension,  down- 
heartedness.  The  man  sees  nothing  to 
cheer  him.  But  in  neither  case  has  any- 
thing occurred,  any  influence  come  from 
without  that  might  account  either  for  the 
gladness  or  for  the  gloom. 

Assuredly  we  may  not  affirm  that  the 
personality  has  been  transformed  in  the 
strict  sense  of  the  term.  It  has  been 
transformed  relatively.  For  himself  and 
still  more  for  those  who  know  him,  the 
individual  is  changed,  is  no  longer  the 
same.  Translated  into  the  language  of 
analytical  psychology,  this  means  that 
his  personality  is  made  up  of  elements, 
some  of  them  relatively  stable,  the  others 
variable ;  and  that  the  variable  elements 
having  overpassed  considerably  their 
habitual  limit,  the  stabfe  elements  as- 
sume a  lower  ratio  to  the  whole,  without 
disappearing. 

Now  suppose — and  the  supposition 
is  realized  every  day — that  this  change, 
instead  of  passing  away  after  a  little 
while,  and  giving  place  to  the  normal 
state,  itself  persists  :  in  other  words,  sup- 
pose the  physical  causes  that  produce  it 
to  be  permanent  instead  of  being  transi- 
tory ;  then  there  results  a  new  physical 
and  mental  habitude,  and  the  individual's 
center  of  gravity  tends  to  displacement. 

This  first  change  may  lead  to  other 
changes  so  that  the  transformation  shall 
go  on  increasing.  At  present  I  will  not 
dwell  upon  this  :  my  wish  was  simply  to 
show  how  from  a  very  common  physical 
and  psychic  state  it  is  possible  to  descend 
little  by  little  to  complete  transformation. 
It  is  only  a  question  of  degrees. 

In  studying  the  disorders  of  personality 
it  is  impossible  rigorously  to  determine 
those  which  have  their  direct  cause  in 
perturbations  of  the  general  sensibility, 
for  the  latter  often,  by  their  secondary 
action,  summon  up  psychic  states  of  a 
higher  order — hallucinations,  and  morbid 
feelings  and  thoughts.  I  shall  limit  my- 
self to  cases  in  which  disorders  of  the 
general  sensibility  seem  to  be  predomi- 
nant. 


In  the  Annales  Mtdico-psychologtques 
(Sept.  1878)  we  find  recorded  five  obser- 
vations grouped  under  one  heading :  "  An 
aberration  of  physical  personality."  With- 
out caviling  at  the  title,  which  perhaps 
says  more  than  it  ought  to  say,  we  see 
here  an  unknown  organic  state,  a  change 
of  the  ccenassthesis  producing,  in  the  ab- 
sence of  all  external  causes,  a  feeling  of 
bodily  annihilation.  "  While  in  the  en- 
joyment of  perfect  health,  with  exuberant 
strength  and  vitality,  a  person  experiences 
a  sensation  of  ever  increasing  weakness,, 
so  that  he  apprehends  every  moment  that 
he  is  about  to  fall  into  syncope,  and  to  be 
extinguished."  Meanwhile  the  sensibility 
is  intact ;  the  patient  eats  with  a  good  ap- 
petite ;  and  if  any  one  attempts  to  act 
contrary  to  his  will,  he  reacts  with  the 
utmost  energy.  He  keeps  repeating  that 
he  feels  himself  dying,  hfs  light  going  out- 
little  by  little  ;  that  he  has  not  more  than 
a  few  hours  of  life  left.  Naturally  upon 
this  purely  physical  stock  delirious  con- 
ceptions become  engrafted  :  one  patient 
declares  that  he  is  poisoned,  another  that 
a  demon  has  entered  his  body  and  "  is, 
sucking  the  life  out  of  him." 

Let  us  fix  our  attention  upon  the  im- 
mediate consequences  of  the  physicaf 
state.  We  find  here  that  state  of  de- 
pression already  described  and  familiar 
to  every  one,  but  in  a  far  more  serious 
and  more  stable  form.  The  mental  dis- 
order increases  equally  and  becomes 
systematized.  The  individual  becomes 
more  and  more  unlike  his  former  self. 
Another  stage  is  reached  on  the  road  to- 
the  break-up  of  the  Me,  but  dissolution  is 
still  a  long  way  off. 

This  beginning  of  transformation,  re- 
sulting from  natural  causes,  is  seen  also 
in  patients  who  say  that  they  are  envel- 
oped with  a  veil  or  with  a  cloud  ;  that 
they  are  cut  off  from  the  outer  world,, 
and  insensible  to  everything.  Others — 
and  in  their  case  the  phenomena  may  be 
referred  to  disordered  muscular  sensibil- 
ity— enjoy  with  rapture  the  lightness  of 
their  bodies,  feel  themselves  suspended 
in  air,  fancy  that  they  can  fly ;  or  they 
have  a  sense  of  weight  throughout  the 
whole  body  or  in  some  of  their  members, 
or  in  one,  and  that  one  they  imagine  to 
be  of  enormous  size  and  weight.  "  A  cer- 
tain young  epileptic  at  times  felt  his  body 
so  uncommonly  heavy  that  he  could 
hardly  support  its  weight :  again  it  was  so 
light  that  he  fancied  he  did  not  touch  the 
ground.  Sometimes  his  body  seemed  to 
him  to  have  assumed  such  proportions 


12 


THE  DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


that  no  doorway   was  wide  enough  to 
afford  him  passage.  "  * 

Patients  subject  to  illusions  regarding 
the  size  of  their  bodies  may  fancy  them 
to  be  either  very  much  larger,  or  very 
much. smaller  than,  they  are. 

The  local  perversions  of  the  general 
sensibility,  though  by  nature  restricted, 
are  nevertheless  of  great  importance  psy- 
chologically. A  patient  will  assert  that 
he  no  longer  has  any  teeth,  or  that  he  has 
no  mouth>  stomach,  intestines,  brain,  etc. 
This  state  can  be  explained  only  by  a 
.suppression  or  an  alteration  of  the  inward 
sensations  that  exist  in  the  normal  state, 
and  which  go  to  make  up  the  conception 
of  the  physical  Me.  To  the  same  cause, 
sometimes  conjoined  with  cutaneous 
anaesthesis,  are  to  be  referred  cases 
where  the  patient  believes  that  some  one 
•of  his  members  or  even  that  his  whole 
body  is  wood,  or  glass,  or  stone,  or  but- 
ter, etc. 

A  little  later  he  will  be  saying  that  he 
now  has  no  body,  that  he  is  dead.  Es- 
quirol  tells  of  a  woman  who  believed  that 
the  Devil  had  carried  her  body  away  :  in 
her  the  cutaneous  surface  was  totally  in- 
sensible. The  physician  Baudelocque, 
toward  the  end  of  his  life,  was  uncon- 
scious of  the  existence  of  his  body.  He 
used  to  say  that  he  had  no  head,  no  arms, 
•etc.  Finally,  every  one  is  familiar  with 
the  fact  recorded  by  Foville  :  A  certain  sol- 
dier who  had  been  severely  wounded  in 
the  battle  of  Austerlitz  ever  afterward 
believed  himself  dead.  On  being  askec 
what  was  the  news  he  would  answer 
4<  You  wish  to  know  how  is  old  Lam- 
bert ?  He  is  no  more,  a  cannon  ball  put 
an  end  to  him.  What  you  see  is  no 
Lambert,  but  a  clumsy  machine  made  to 
resemble  him.  You  must  ask  them  to 
make  another."  In  speaking  of  himsel 
he  never  said  "  mot "  (I,  me)  but  "  cela  ' 
(this  thing).  The  skin  was  insensible 
and  he  oftentimes  would  fall  into  a  state 
of  utter  insensibility  and  immobility  last- 
ing for  several  days. 

Here  we  come  to  grave  disorders 
meeting  for  the  first  time  a  double  per- 
sonality, or  more  strictly  a  discontinuity 
between  two  periods  of  psychic  life,  a 
failure  of  them  to  connect.  The  case 
just  mentioned  may  be  explained  thus 
Before  his  injury,  this  soldier,  like  every 
one,  had  his  organic  consciousness,  the 
sense  of  his  own  body,  of  his  physica 
personality.  After  it,  an  essentia 


*  Griesinger.     Traitt  des    Maladies    Mentales 
p.  92.     Doumic's  translation. 


change  took  place  in  his  nervous  organ- 
zation.  As  regards  the  nature  of  this 
±ange  unfortunately  we  can  only  offer 
lypotheses ;  the  effects  alone  are  known 
o  us.  Whatever  the  change  may  have 
Deen  its  result  was  to  produce  another 
organic  consciousness,  the  consciousness 
of  a  "  clumsy  machine."  Between  this 
and  the  former  consciousness,  memory 
of  which  persisted  tenaciously,  no  con- 
nection, had  been  established.  The  feel- 
ing of  identity  was  wanting  because,  as 
regards  organic  as  well  as  other  states, 
it  can  result  only  from  a  slow,  progres- 
sive and  continuous  assimilation  of  the 
new  states.  In  this  case  the  new  states 
did  not  enter  the  former  Me  as  an  in- 
tegral part.  Hence  the  odd  situation, 
in  which  the  former  personality  appears 
to  itself  as  having  been  but  now  no 
longer  existent ;  and  in  which  the  pres- 
ent state  appears  as  something  external 
and  foreign.  Finally  I  would  remark 
that  in  states  where  the  surface  of  the 
body  is  no  longer  sensitive ;  where  sen- 
sations coming  from  the  several  organs 
are  nearly  null,  and  the  superficial  and 
the  deeper  sensibility  is  extinct,  the  or- 
ganism no  longer  calls  up  those  feelings, 
images  and  ideas  which  are  its  bond  of 
union  with  the  higher  psychic  life  :  it  is 
restricted  to  the  automatic  actions  that 
constitute  the  habitude  and  routine  of 
life.  It  is  properly  speaking  "  a  ma- 
chine." 

Should  any  one  maintain  that  in  this 
instance  the  only  personality  is  that 
which  remembers,  he  may  do  so  abso- 
lutely, but  it  must  be  admitted  that  this 
personality  is  of  a  very  peculiar  kind, 
existing  only  in  the  past :  hence  it  might 
be  called  more  properly  a  memory  than 
a  personality. 

What  distinguishes  this  case  from 
those  we  shall  consider  later  is  that  here 
the  aberration  is  entirely  physical :  it 
has  its  rise  in  the  body,  and  it  refers 
only  to  the  body.  This  old  soldier  does 
not  believe  himself  to  be  some  one  else 
(Napoleon,  for  instance,  though  he  was 
at  Austerlitz) :  the  case  is  as  free  as  pos- 
sible from  mental  elements. 

To  perturbations  of  sensibility  is  also 
to  be  referred  the  illusion  of  some  pa- 
tients or  convalescents  who  fancy  them- 
selves to  be  double.  Sometimes  there 
is  illusion  pure  and  simple  without  dupli- 
cation. In  that  case  the  morbid  state 
is  projected  outside  of  the  patient — he 
alienates  a  part  of  his  physical  person- 
ality. Instances  of  this  illusion  are  seen 
in  cases  like  that  recorded  by  Bouillaud 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


where  the  patient  having  lost  sensibility  | 
on  one  side  of  the  body,  imagines  that 
he  has  lying  beside  him  on  the  bed 
another  person,  or  even  a  dead  body. 
But  when  the  group  of  morbid  organic 
sensations,  instead  of  being  thus  alien- 
ated, cling  to  the  normal  organic  person- 
ality, but  without  fusion,  then  and  so 
long  as  that  state  lasts,  the  patient  be- 
lieves that  he  has  two  bodies.  "  A  man 
convalescing  after  a  fever  believed  him- 
self to  be  made  up  of  two  individuals, 
one  abed,  the  other  walking  about. 
Though  he  had  no  appetite,  he  ate  a 
good  deal,  having,  as  he  said,  two  bodies 
to  feed."  * 

"  Pariset  having  in  his  early  years  been 
prostrated  by  epidemic  typhus,  remained 
several  days  in  a  state  of  collapse  nigh  to 
death.  One  morning  a  more  distinct  sense 
of  himself  awoke  within  him  ;  he  fell  a  think- 
ing, and  it  was  like  a  resurrection  from  the 
dead.  But,  strange  to  tell,  he  had  at  that 
moment,  or  believed  that  he  had,  two  bod- 
ies, which  appeared  to  him  to  be  lying  in 
two  separate  beds.  While  his  soul  was 
present  in  one  of  these  bodies,  he  felt  well 
and  enjoyed  a  delightful  repose.  In  the 
other  body  the  soul  endured  the  suffering 
incident  to  the  disease,  and  the  patient 
would  say,  How  is  it  that  I  am  so  easy  in 
this  bed  and  so  ill,  so  wretched  in  the  other? 
These  thoughts  engaged  his  mind  for  a  long 
time,  and  with  his  extraordinary  power  of 
psychological  analysis  he  oftentimes  enter- 
tained me  with  the  details  of  the  impres- 
sions he  then  received."  t 

Here  we  have  two  instances  of  double 
physical  personality.  Though  we  are 
still  but  a  little  way  on  in  our  study,  the 
reader  may  already  see  how  these  cases 
differ  from  one  another  when  closely 
examined.  The  current  phrase  "  double 
personality "  is  only  'an  abstraction : 
once  translated  into  the  language  of 
concrete  facts,  of  authentic  observations, 
it  is  seen  to  comprise  all  sorts  of  diver- 
sity. Each  case,  so  to  speak,  requires  a 
special  interpretation.  A  priori,  the 
special  interpretation  might  be  found. 
If,  as  we  hold  and  as  we  will  try  to  show 
as  we  proceed,  personality  is  a  highly 
complex  composite,  plainly  its  pertur- 
bations must  needs  be  multiform.  Each 
separate  case  shows  it  to  us  broken  up 
in  a  different  way.  Here  disease  be- 
comes a  subtile  instrument  of  analysis ; 
it  makes  for  us  experiments  not  to  be 
had  otherwise.  The  difficulty  is  to  in- 


*  Leuret,  Fragments  Psychologiques  sur  la 
Folie,  p.  95. 

t  Gratiolet,  Anatontie  Comparte  du  Systhne 
j/erveujc,  tome  2,  p.  548. 


terpret  them  aright ;  but  our  very  mis- 
takes can  lead  us  astray  only  for  a 
moment,  for  the  facts  the  future  will 
develop  will  serve  to  correct  our  conclu- 
sions or  to  verify  them. 


The  province  of  the  physical  personal- 
ity as  an  element  of  the  total  personality 
is  so  important  a  one  and  has  been  so 
overlooked,  often  on  purpose,  that  we 
can  hardly  lay  too  much  stress  upon  it. 
Here  we  may  with  some  advantage  study- 
certain  rare  cases  little  regarded  by- 
psychologists,  but  which  bring  to  the 
support  of  our  thesis  some  additional 
facts  not  more  conclusive  than  those 
already  cited,  but  more  striking :  I  mean 
cases  of  double  monsters. 

It  must  be  confessed  that  the  number 
of  such  cases  is  rather  small.  Nature 
does  not  multiply  monsters,  and  of  the 
seventy  or  eighty  species  defined  by  tera- 
tologists  the  major  part  have  no  interest 
for  us.  Furthermore,  of  double  monsters 
many  fail  to  reach  adult  age.  The  anat- 
omist and  the  physiologist  may  study 
these  with  profit,  not  so  the  psychologist. 
Finally,  accurate  observations  on  this 
matter  date  back  hardly  one  hundred 
years.  Observations  of  an  earlier  date 
are  so  tinged  with  credulity  and  so  im- 
perfectly recorded  as  to  be  of  no  value. 

The  Me,  as  has  oft  been  repeated,  is 
impenetrable  :  it  forms  in  itself  a  perfect 
whole  strictly  limited — and  this  is  a  proof 
of  its  essential  oneness.  This  statement 
is  indisputable,  nevertheless  the  impene- 
trability of  the  Me  is  only  the  subjective 
expression  of  the  impenetrability  of  the 
organism.  One  personality  cannot  be 
another  personality,  just  because  one  or- 
ganism cannot  be  another  organism. 
But  if  through  a  concurrence  of  causes 
that  need  not  be  enumerated,  two  human 
beings  from  the  foetal  period  be  partially 
united,  the  heads — the  essential  organs 
of  human  individuality — remaining  per- 
fectly distinct,  then  what  happens  is  this  r 
each  organism  is  no  longer  completely- 
limited  in  space  and  distinct  from  every 
other;  there  is  an  undivided  ownership, 
common  to  both,  of  a  part  of  the  econ- 
omy, and  if,  as  we  maintain,  the  unity 
and  the  complexity  of  the  Me  are  but  the 
subjective  expression  of  the  unity  and  the 
complexity  of  the  organism,  then  there 
must  be  partial  penetration  of  one  per- 
sonality by  the  other,  and  a  portion  of 
the  common  psychic  life  must  be  com- 
mon to  the  two,  belonging  not  to  a  Me 


THE  DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


but  to  a  We.  Each  individual  here  is  a 
little  less  than  an  individual  This  infer- 
ence is  fully  confirmed  by  experience. 

"  Anatomically  considered,  a  double  mon- 
ster is  always  more  than  a  unitary  individual 
and  less  than  two,  but  in  some  cases  it  comes 
nearer  to  unity,  in  others  to  duality.  So  too, 
^physiologically  considered,  it  always  has 
more  than  a  unitary  life,  and  less  than  two 
lives  ;  but  its  twofold  life  may  approach  near- 
er to  unity  on  the  one  hand  or  on  the  other 
to  duality. 

"If  we  consider  only  the  phenomena  of 
sensibility  and  of  will,  a  monster  made  up  of 
two  nearly  perfect  individuals  joined  only  at 
one  point  of  their  bodies  will  be  twain  men- 
tally and  morally  as  well  as  physically.  Each 
individual  will  have  its  own  sensibility  and 
its  own  will,  and  these  will  have  relation  to 
its  own  body  and  to  that  alone.  It  may  even 
happen  that  the  twins  will  differ  widely  in 
their  physical  constitution,  their  stature,  their 
physiognomy,  and  not  less  widely  in  personal 
-character  and  intelligence.  When  one  is 
happy  the  other  may  be  sad;  one  will  be 
•wakeful  while  the  other  sleeps ;  or  one  will 
want  to  walk  while  the  other  prefers  to  rest : 
and  out  of  this  conflict  of  two  wills  govern- 
ing two  indissolubly  united  bodies  may  come 
movements  without  results  and  that  are 
neither  walking  nor  resting.  The  two  moi- 
•eties  may  quarrel  with  each  other,  or  come 
to  blows.  .  .  .  Thus  their  moral  duality,  a 
•consequence  of  their  physical  duality,  will  be 
demonstrated  in  a  hundred  ways ;  neverthe- 
less, as  there  is  a  point  in  the  double  body 
situate  on  the  dividing  line  between  the  two 
individuals  and  common  to  both,  certain 
other  phenomena  not  so  numerous,  demon- 
strate in  them  a  beginning  of  unity. 

"  Impressions  made  upon  the  region  where 
the  two  are  united,  especially  at  its  central 
point,  are  perceived  simultaneously  by  both 
brains,  and  both,  too,  may  react  in  response 
to  them.  .  .  .  We  may  add  that  if  at  times 
the  peace  between  the  twins  is  disturbed, 
there  exists  between  them  nearly  always  a 
harmony  of  feelings  and  desires  and  a  mutual 
sympathy  and  attachment  that  can  hardly  be 
appreciated  by  one  who  has  not  read  all  the 
testimony. 

"  Phenomena  of  the  same  and  of  a  differ- 
ent kind  are  seen  in  cases  where,  the  union 
becoming  closer,  the  two  heads  have  between 
them  only  one  body  and  one  pair  of  legs. 
Anatomic  analysis  shows  that  in  such  crea- 
tures each  individual  possesses  as  his  own 
one  side  of  the  one  body  and  one  of  the 
two  legs.  Physiological  and  psychological 
•observation  fully  confirms  this  singular  result 
Impressions  made  along  the  whole  length  01 
the  axis  of  union  are  perceived  simultane 
ously  by  both  the  heads ;  those  made  on 
either  side  of  the  axis  and  at  some  distance 
from  it  are  perceived  by  one  head  only;  anc 
the  same  is  true  of  the  will  as  of  sensations 
The  brain  to  the  right  will  alone  receive  sen 
nations  through  the  right  leg  and  it  alone  will 


act  upon  that  leg,  while  the  brain  to  the  left 
will  alone  act  on  the  left  leg :  so  that  the  act 
of  walking  will  be  the  result  of  movements 
>erformed  by  two  limbs  belonging  to  two 
different  individuals,  and  coordinated  by  two 
distinct  wills. 

"  Finally,  in  parasital  monsters,  as  the  or- 
^anization  is  here  nearly  unitary,  all  the  vital 
acts,  all  the  sensations,  all  the  manifestations 
of  will  take  place  almost  exactly  as  in  normal 
Beings.  The  smaller  of  the  two  individuals, 
laving  become  an  accessory  and  inactive 
jart  of  the  larger,  exerts  upon  him  only  a 
weak  and  limited  influence  and  that  only  in  a 
very  small  number  of  functions."* 

To  these  general  outlines  I  will  add  a 
:ew  details  taken  from  the  most  famous 
nstances  of  double  monstrosity. 

There  are  a  good  many  documents  ex- 
tant relating  to  Helen  and  Judith,  a  dual 
female  monster  born  at  Szony,  Hungary, 
in  1701,  deceased  at  Presburg  aged 
twenty-two  years.  Helen  and  Judith 
stood  nearly  back  to  back,  being  united 
at  the  nates  and  partly  in  the  lumbar  re- 
gion. The  sexual  organs  were  double 
externally,  but  there  was  only  one  womb ; 
there  were  two  intestinal  canals  opening 
into  one  anus.  The  two  aortas  and  the 
two  inferior  venae  cavas  were  united  at 
their  extremities,  thus  opening  two  wide 
and  direct  communications  between  the 
two  hearts:  from  this  resulted  a  semi- 
community  of  life  and  function. 

'  The  sisters  had  neither  the  same  tem- 
perament nor  the  same  character.  Helen 
was  taller,  handsomer,  more  sprightly,  more 
intelligent  and  more  amiable  in  disposition 
than  her  sister.  Judith,  stricken  at  the  age 
of  six  years  with  hemiplegic  paralysis,  was 
always  smaller  and  of  less  active  mind.  She 
was  slightly  deformed,  and  her  speech  some- 
what impeded.  Still,  like  her  sister,  she 
spoke  the  Hungarian,  German,  French,  and 
even  a  little  English  and  Italian.  The  sis- 
ters were  tenderly  affectionate  to  each  other, 
though  in  childhood  they  sometimes  quar- 
reled and  even  came  to  blows.  The  calls  of 
nature  came  to  both  simultaneously,  except 
as  regarded  urination.  They  had  the  measles 
and  later  the  small-pox  simultaneously,  and 
whenever  it  happened  that  only  one  of  the 
sisters  was  ill  of  any  complaint,  the  other 
would  be  miserable  and  worried.  At  last 
Judith  was  taken  with  a  brain  trouble  and  an 
affection  of  the  lungs.  Helen,  who  for  a 
few  days  had  suffered  from  a  slight  fever,  al- 
most instantly  lost  all  her  strength,  though 
her  intellect  remained  clear  and  her  power  of 
speech  unimpaired.  After  a  brief  agony  she 


*  Isidore  Geoffrey  Saint-Hilaire,  Histoire  des 
A  nomalies,  tome  3,  p.  373.  The  monster  known  as 
"  Home's  epicome  had  a  parasitic  head  which 
presented  but  a  very  imperfect  semblance  of  nor- 
mal life. 


THE   DISEASES   OF  PERSONALITY. 


succumbed,  not  to  her  own  ailment  but  to 
those  of  her  sister.  The  twins  expired  at 
the  same  instant." 

The  Siamese  Twins,  Chang  and  Eng, 
born  in  1811  in  the  kingdom  of  Siam, 
were  connected  from  the  navel  to  the 
xiphoid  appendix.  I.  G.  de  Saint-Hilaire, 
after  describing  their  outward  habitus, 
adds  that, 

"  The  two  brothers,  even  in  their  other 
functions  [besides  respiration  and  the  ar- 
terial pulsation]  exhibit  a  concordance  that 
is  remarkable,  though  not  absolutely  con- 
stant as  has  been  affirmed,  and  as  Chang 
and  Eng  themselves  have  been  wont  to 
assure  those  who  went  no  farther  than  to 
put  to  the  twins  a  few  vague  questions.  No 
doubt  there  is  nothing  more  curious  than 
the  contrast  of  almost  complete  physical  du- 
ality with  absolute  moral  unity — but  there 
is  nothing  so  opposed  to  sound  theory.  I 
have  carefully  made  every  observation,  and 
gathered  all  the  information  that  could  help 
me  to  determine  the  truth  of  what  has  been 
.so  often  asserted,  and  I  have  found  that,  in 
this  conflict  between  the  ill-understood  prin- 
ciples of  teratology  and  the  many  physio- 
logical doctrines  that  have  been  based  on  the 
unity  of  the  Siamese  brothers,  the  facts,  as 
was  to  have  been  expected,  are  entirely  in 
favor  of  the  former.  These  twin  brothers, 
cast  in  two  nearly  identical  moulds,  of  neces- 
sity subject  throughout  their  lives  to  the  in- 
fluence of  the  same  physical  and  moral  en- 
vironment, having  a  similar  organization  and 
receiving  the  same  education,  present  the 
.spectacle  of  two  creatures  whose  functions, 
actions,  words,  whose  very  thoughts  are 

nearly  always  concordant  and  parallel 

Their  joys,  their  sorrows,  are  in  common  : 
the  same  desires  arise  at  the  same  instant  in 
these  twin  souls,  the  sentence  that  is  begun 
by  one  is  often  completed  by  the  other. 
Nevertheless  these  concordances  prove 
parity,  not  unity.  Twins  in  the  normal  state 
often  exhibit  analogous  concordances,  and 
no  doubt  they  would  present  agreements 
quite  as  remarkable  if  they  had  during  their 
whole  lives  seen  the  same  objects,  experi- 
enced the  same  sensations,  shared  in  the 
same  pleasures,  undergone  the  same  suffer- 
ings." * 

And  I  may  add  that  as  the  Siamese 
twins  grew  older,  their  differences  of 
character  became  more  and  more  pro- 
nounced :  one  of  the  latest  observers  de- 
.scribes  one  of  the  brothers  as  morose 
and  taciturn,  the  other  as  sprightly  and 
cheerful. 

Inasmuch  as  the  present  work  is  not 
intended  to  be  a  Psychology  of  Double 
Monsters,  which  find  a  place  in  this 


*  Hist,  des  A  ttomalies,  tome  3,  p.  90,  et  seq. 


treatise  only  as  instances  of  deviation  of 
personal  identity,  I  shall  simply  men- 
tion the  recent  case  of  Millie  and  Chris- 
tine, in  whom  the  sensibility  of  the  lower 
members  is  in  common ;  consequently 
the  two  spinal  cords  must  form  a  regular 
chiasma  at  the  point  of  union. 

The  law,  both  civil  and  ecclesiastical, 
takes  cognizance  of  this  phenomenon  of 
double  monsters,  as  involving  questions 
of  civil  status,  marriage,  right  of  succes- 
sion, baptism,  etc. ;  it  has  unhesitatingly 
recognized  two  persons  wherever  such 
monsters  present  two  distinct  heads. 
And  justly  so,  though  in  practice  embar- 
rassing questions  may  arise.  The  head 
being  in  man  the  true  seat  of  personality 
and  the  place  where  the  synthesis  of  per- 
sonality takes  place — though  this  does 
not  appear  so  certain  as  we  descend  the 
animal  scale — it  fairly  stands  for  the  in- 
dividual. But  when  the  question  is  dis- 
cussed scientifically  it  is  impossible,  in 
the  case  of  double  monsters,  to  consider 
each  individual  as  complete. 

I  will  not  weary  the  reader  with  un- 
necessary comments,  since  the  facts 
speak  for  themselves.  Whoever  exam- 
ines attentively  what  has  been  said,  will 
see  that  even  in  cases  where  the  person- 
alities are  most  distinct,  there  is  such  a 
blending  of  organs  and  functions  that 
each  of  the  twins  can  be  himself  only  bjr 
being  more  or  less  the  other  and  by  hav- 
ing consciousness  of  that  other. 

The  Me  therefore  is  not  an  entity  that 
acts  where  and  how  it  pleases,  controlling 
the  organs  in  its  own  way,  limiting  its 
own  province  at  will.  On  the  contrary  it 
is  so  truly  a  resultant  that  its  domain  is 
strictly  determined  by  its  anatomical 
connections  with  the  brain,  and  that  it 
represents,  now  a  complete  body  less 
some  undivided  part,  again  a  part  of  a 
body  and,  in  the  case  of  parasital  mon- 
sters, so  small  a  part  that  it  cannot  sub- 
sist, and  becomes  aborted. 


To  prove  once  more  and  in  another 
way  that  the  organism  is  the  principle  of 
individuation ;  and  that  it  is  such  without 
any  restriction,  directly  through  the  or- 
ganic sensations,  indirectly  through  the 
affective  and  intellective  states  of  which 
we  shall  speak  later ;  let  us  see  what 
takes  place  in  twins.  Psychology  has 
hardly  concerned  itself  about  twins  any 
more  than  about  double  monsters,  but 
biologists  have  brought  to  light  some  cu- 
rious facts. 

First  it  is  to  be  remarked  that  double 


i6 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


births  occur  in  the  ratio  of  about  one  to 
seventy  normal  births.  Triple  and  quad- 
ruple births  are  far  more  infrequent — as 
one  to  5000  and  one  to  150,000  respec- 
tively :  but  we  will  consider  here  only 
cases  of  twin  births,  for  the  study  of 
triple  and  quadruple  births  would  only 
complicate  matters.  Again,  it  is  to  be 
remarked  that  there  are  two  kinds  of 
twins,  coming  each  from  a  separate 
ovum,  and  in  such  cases  they  may  be  of 
the  same  or  of  different  sex ;  or  from 
two  germinative  spots  in  one  ovum,  and 
then  they  are  enveloped  in  the  same 
membrane  and  are  invariably  of  one  sex. 
This  latter  case  alone  gives  us  two  per- 
sonalities strictly  comparable. 

We  will  not  take  account  of  animals, 
but  will  consider  the  human  species  only, 
and  will  attack  the  problem  in  all  its  com- 
plexity. It  is  evident  that  since  the  phys- 
ical and  the  moral  state  of  the  parents 
is  the  same  for  the  two  individuals  at  the 
instant  of  procreation,  one  cause  of  dif- 
ference is  eliminated.  And  as  their  de- 
velopment has  for  its  starting  point  one 
single  fecundated  ovum,  it  is  highly  pro- 
bable that  there  will  be  an  exceedingly 
close  resemblance  between  the  two  in 
physical  constitution,  and  hence,  accord- 
ing to  our  thesis,  in  mental  constitution. 
Let  us  first  see  what  are  the  (acts  in  our 
•  favor;  we  will  then  consider  objections 
and  exceptions. 

Perfect  likeness  between  twins  is  a 
matter  of  every-day  observation.  In 
ancient  times  it  was  turned  to  account  by 
comic  poets,  and  ever  since  novelists 
have  made  use  of  it.  But  usually  they 
have  dealt  only  with  external  resem- 
blances, as  stature,  figure,  features,  voice. 
There  are  resemblances  far  deeper  than 
these.  Physicians  have  for  a  long  time 
remarked  that  most  twins  exhibit  an 
extraordinary  agreement  in  tastes,  apti- 
tudes, faculties,  and  even  in  their  for- 
tunes. Mr.  Gallon  has  investigated  this 
subject  by  sending  out  a  list  of  question 
to  which  he  received  eighty  replies  where- 
of thirty-six  entered  into  circumstantia" 
details.  Mr.  Gallon's  purpose  was  en- 
tirely different  from  ours.  In  pursuing 
his  researches  on  heredity  he  wished  to 
determine  by  a  new  method  the  respec- 
tive parts  played  by  nature  and  education 
but  much  of  his  material  will  be  of  grea 
use  to  us.* 
He  gives  many  anecdotes  of  the  same 


*  Seethe  title  'History  of  Twins ''in  Gallon' 
Inquiries  into  Human  Faculty  and  its  Develop 
mcnt. 


haracter  as  those  which  have  long  been 
urrent,  e.  g. :  one  sister  taking  two 
music  lessons  a  day  so  as  to  leave  her 
win  sister  free  ;  the  perplexities  of  a  col- 
ege  janitor  who  whenever  the  twin 
jrother  of  one  of  the  students  came  to 
ee  his  brother,  was  at  a  loss  which  of  the 
wo  to  let  out,  etc.  In  other  cases  the 
wins  exhibit  a  persistent  likeness  to  each 
ther  under  circumstances  little  calcu- 
ated  to  preserve  it.  Thus : 

"  A  was  coming  home  from  India  on  leave  ; 
he  ship  did  not  arrive  for  some  days  after  it 
vas  due ;  the  twin  brother  B  had  come  up 
rom  his  quarters  to  receive  A,  and  their  old 
mother  was  very  nervous.  One  morning  A 
rushed  in  saying,  '  Oh,  mother,  how  are 
rou  ? '  Her  answer  was,  '  No,  B,  it's  a  bad 
oke.  You  know  how  anxious  I  am  ' — and 
t  was  a  little  time  before  A  could  persuade 
icr  that  he  was  the  real  man."  t 

But  facts  regarding  mental  organiza- 
tion have  more  interest  for  us.  "  The 
next  point,"  says  Gallon, 
'  which  I  shall  mention  in  illustration  of  the 
extremely  close  resemblance  between  certain 
twins  is  the  similarity  in  the  association  of 
their  ideas.  No  less  than  eleven  out  of  the 
thirty-five  cases  testify  to  this.  They  make 
the  same  remarks  on  the  same  occasion, 
begin  singing  the  same  song  at  the  same 
moment,  and  so  on ;  or  one  would  commence 
a  sentence  and  the  other  would  finish  it.  An 
observant  friend  graphically  described  to  me 
the  effect  produced  on  her  oy  two  such  twins 
whom  she  had  met  casually.  She  said : 
'  Their  teeth  grew  alike,  they  spoke  alike 
and  together,  and  said  the  same  things,  and 
seemed  just  like  one  person.  One  of  the 
most  curious  anecdotes  that  I  have  received 
concerning  this  similarity  of  ideas  was  that 
one  twin,  A,  who  happened  to  be  at  a  town 
in  Scotland,  bought  a  set  of  champaign 
glasses  which  caught  his  attention,  as  a  sur- 
prise for  his  brother  B,  while  at  the  same 
time,  B,  being  in  England,  bought  a  similar 
set  of  precisely  the  same  pattern  for  A. 
Other  anecdotes  of  a  like  kind  have  reached 
me  about  these  twins.'  "  | 

Bodily  and  mental  diseases,  in  ihem- 
selves  and  in  iheir  evolution,  supply 
many  confirmatory  facts.  And  though 
the  latter  are  of  interest  only  lo  ihe 
psychologist,  the  former  disclose  a  like- 
ness in  ihe  inmost  constitution  of  the  two 
organisms  not  to  be  seen  at  a  glance  like 
external  resemblances.  Says  Trousseau  : 

"  I  have  had  as  patients  twin  brothers 
that  were  so  extraordinarily  alike  that  it  was 

t  Gallon,  Inquiries  into\Human  Faculty.    (Lon- 
don, 1883),  p.  224. 
\  Ibid.,  p.  231. 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


impossible  for  me  to  distinguish  them  except 
when  they  were  side  by  side.  This  bodily  re- 
semblance went  further  still  :  there  was  even 
a  more  remarkable  pathological  likeness  be- 
tween them  One  of  them,  whom  I  saw  in 
Paris  suffering  from  rheumatic  ophthalmia, 
said  to  me  :  '  This  very  moment  my  brother 
is  no  doubt  suffering  from  ophthalmia  too.'  I 
scouted  the  idea,  but  a  few  days  afterward 
he  showed  me  a  letter  he  had  just  received 
from  his  brother,  then  at  Vienne,  in  which 
he  wrote  :  '  I  have  my  ophthalmia,  you  too 
must  be  having  yours.'  Strange  as  this  may 
seem,  the  fact  was  even  so.  This  I  have 
not  on  hearsay,  but  I  myself  have  seen  it,  and 
similar  cases  have  come  to  my  knowledge  in 
my  practice."  * 

Galton  gives  many  similar  cases,  but  I 
quote  only  one.  Two  twins  bearing  a 
perfect  resemblance  to  each  other,  with 
a  strong  mutual  attachment  and  with 
identical  tastes,  were  in  government  em- 
ploy, and  lived  together.  One  fell  sick 
of  Bright's  disease  and  died ;  the  other 
was  attacked  by  the  same  disorder  and 
died  seven  months  later. 

Pages  might  be  filled  with  similar  cases. 
And  it  is  the  same  with  mental  maladies. 
A  few  instances  will  suffice.  Moreau  of 
Tours  had  under  treatment  two  twins 
physically  alike  and  both  insane.  In 
them 

"the  dominant  ideas  are  absolutely  the 
same.  Both  believe  themselves  to  be  the 
victims  of  imaginary  persecutions.  The 
self-same  enemies  have  sworn  to  undo 
them  and  employ  the  self-same  means  of 
attaining  their  ends.  Both  have  hallucina- 
tions of  hearing.  They  never  address  a 
word  of  conversation  to  any  one,  and  are 
loth  to  answer  questions.  They  always 
hold  themselves  aloof  and  do  not  communi- 
cate with  each  other.  An  exceedingly  curi- 
ous fact,  and  one  again  and  again  noticed  by 
the  attendants  in  their  ward  and  by  ourselves 
is,  that  from  time  to  time,  at  very  irregular 
intervals — two,  three  or  more  months — with- 
out ascertainable  cause  and  by  a  spontaneous 
effect  of  their  complaint,  a  very  marked 
change  occurs  in  the  condition  of  the  two 
brothers.  Both  of  them,  about  the  same 
period,  often  on  the  same  day,  quit  their 
habitual  state  of  stupor  and  prostration  ;  they 
utter  the  self-same  complaints  and  present 
themselves  before  the  physician,  earnestly 
begging  to  be  allowed  their  liberty.  I  have 
been  witness  of  this  rather  singular  fact  even 
when  the  twins  happened  to  be  several  kilo- 
meters apart,  one  at  Bicetre,  the  other  at  the 
Ste.  Anne  farm."  t 


Recently  the  Journal 'of  Mental  Science 
published  two  observations  on  insanity 
in  twins.  Here  we  see  two  sisters  much 
alike  in  features,  manners,  speech  and 
mental  traits,  so  that  they  might  easily 
be  taken  for  one  another.  They  were 
placed  in  different  wards  of  the  same 
asylum  without  the  possibility  of  seeing 
one  another,  and  yet  the  symptoms  of  in- 
sanity were  the  same  in  both. 

But  we  must  meet  some  objections. 
There  are  some  twins  of  one  sex  who  do 
not  resemble  each  other,  and  though  the 
observed  facts  do  not  tell  us  in  what  pro- 
portion true  twins  (from  one  ovum)  pre- 
sent these  differences,  one  instance  suf- 
fices to  make  the  subject  worthy  of  dis- 
cussion. We  have  in  another  place  J 
enumerated  the  many  causes  that  in  every 
individual,  from  conception  till  death, 
tend  to  produce  variations,  that  is  to  say 
marks  proper  to  that  individual  and  dif- 
ferentiating him  from  all  others.  Here, 
as  we  have  said,  one  class  of  causes  must 
be  eliminated,  viz.,  those  which  come  im- 
mediately from  the  parents.  But  the 
fecundated  ovum  represents  also  the  an- 
cestral influences — four,  twelve,  twenty- 
eight  possible  influences,  accordingly  as 
we  go  back  to  the  grand-parents,  great- 
grand-parents,  great-great-grand-parents, 
and  so  on.  Only  by  experience  do  we 
learn  which  influences  prevail  and  in 
what  degree.  Here  indeed  one  same 
ovum  serves  to  produce  two  individuals ; 
but  there  is  nothing  to  prove  that  always 
and  everywhere  division  is  made  between 
the  two  with  strict  equivalence  in  quan- 
tity and  quality  of  the  materials.  The 
ova  of  all  animals  not  only  possess  the 
same  anatomic  composition,  but  further- 
more chemical  analysis  can  discover  in 
them  only  infinitesimal  differences ;  nev- 
ertheless one  ovum  produces  a  sponge, 
another  a  human  being.  It  follows  that 
this  apparent  likeness  hides  profound  dif- 
ferences which  our  keenest  investigation 
fails  to  detect.  Are  these  differences  due 
to  the  nature  of  the  molecular  motions,  as 
some  authors  think  ?  We  may  suppose 
what  we  please,  provided  it  be  under- 
stood that  the  ovum  is  a  complex  prod- 
uct, and  that  the  two  individuals  that 
come  from  it  may  not  be  rigorously  alike. 
Our  difficulty  springs  simply  from  igno- 
rance of  the  processes  according  to  which 
the  primordial  elements  group  themselves 


*  Trousseau  Clinique  Medicale  I.,  p.  253. 

t  Psychologic  Morbide,  p.  172.  See  also  an  ex- 
ceedingly curious  case  in  the  A  nnafes  Medico-psy- 
(Jtologiques,  1863,  tome  I.,  p,  312.  On  the  question 
of  twins  the  reader  may  consult  Kleinwaechter's 


special  work,  Die  Lehre  von  den  Zwilligen.  Prag. 
1871  :  also  Dr.  B.  Ball,  Insanity  in  Twint  (Huii- 
BOLDT  LIBRARY,  No.  87,  page  37). 

L  'HMditi  Psychologique,  2d  edition,  part  II., 


ch.  iv. 


18 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


HI  order  to  constitute  each  individual,  and , 
consequently  from  our  ignorance  of  the 
physical  and  psychical  differences  thence 
resulting.  Some  of  Gallon's  correspond- 
ents mentioned  the  curious  fact  of  some 
twins  being  "  complementary  to  each 
other."  The  mother  of  a  pair  of  twins 
wrote : 

"  There  seemed  to  be  a  sort  of  interchange- 
able likeness  in  expression  that  often  gave  to 
each  the  effect  of  being  more  like  his  brother 
than  himself." *  "A  fact  struck  all  our 
school  contemporaries,  that  my  brother  and 
I  were  complementary,  so  to  speak,  in  point 
of  ability  and  disposition.  He  was  contem- 
plative, poetical,  and  literary  to  a  remarkable 
degree,  showing  great  power  in  that  line.  I 
was  practical,  mathematical,  and  linguistic. 
Between  us  we  should  have  made  a  very  de- 
cent sorf  of  a  man."  t 

If  the  reader  will  consider  how  complex 
man's  psychic  organization  is,  and,  in  con- 
sequence of  this  complexity,  how  un- 
likely it  is  that  two  persons  should  be 
simply  copies  of  each  other,  he  will  be  in- 
evitably led  to  the  conclusion  that  one 
well-proved  fact  of  this  kind  outweighs 
ten  exceptions,  and  that  the  moral  like- 
ness is  only  the  correlative  of  the  physi- 
cal. If  per  impossibile  there  were  two 
men  so  constituted  that  their  organisms 
should  be  identical,  and  their  hereditary 
influences  exactly  the  same  :  if  per  impos- 
sibilius  both  of  them  received  the  same 
physical  and  moral  impressions  at  the 
same  moment :  then  the  only  difference 
between  them  would  be  their  position  in 
space. 

In  concluding  this  chapter,  I  am  a  little 
ashamed  to  have  collected  so  many  proofs 
and  arguments  to  establish  what  in  my 
eyes  is  a  plain  truth,  viz.,  that  as  the  or- 
ganism is,  so  is  the  personality.  I  should 
have  hesitated  to  do  it,  were  it  not  that 
this  truth  has  been  forgotten  and  miscon- 
ceived rather  than  denied,  and  that  au- 
thors have  nearly  always  contented  them- 
selves with  mentioning  it  under  the  vague 
heading  of  "  influence  of  the  physical  upon 
the  moral." 

The  facts  so  far  studied  do  not  of  them- 
selves lead  to  a  conclusion :  they  only 
prepare  the  way.  They  prove  that  phys- 
ical personality  presupposes  the  proper- 
ties of  living  matter  and  their  coordina- 
tion ;  that  as  the  body  is  but  the  organ- 
ized and  coordinated  sum  of  the  ele- 
ments that  make  it  up,  so  the  psychical 
personality  is  but  the  organized  and  co- 


*  Inquiries  into  Human  Faculty,  p.  214. 
•f  Ibid.  p.  240. 


ordinated  sum  of  the  same  elements  re- 
garded as  psychic  values.  It  expresses 
:heir  nature  and  their  action,  nothing 
more.  This  is  proved  by  the  normal 

itate,  by  teratological  cases,  and  by  the 
likeness  between  twins.  The  aberrations 
of  physical  personality,  or  as  Bertrand  \ 
happily  denominates  them,  "  hallucina- 
tions of  the  bodily  sense  "  (les  hallucina- 
tions du  sens  du  corps)  confirm  this  view. 
But  there  are  deviations  of  human  per- 

onality  produced  by  other  causes,  by  a 
more  complex  mechanism  :  these  we  are 
now  to  study. 


CHAPTER  III. 

AFFECTIVE    DISTURBANCE. 

ONCE  for  all  the  reader  must  be  re- 
minded that  in  this  chapter  (as  also  in  the 
one  on  intellective  disorders)  we  are  still 
pursuing,  under  another  form,  the  study 
of  organic  conditions.  The  desires,  feel- 
ings, passions  that  give  the  fundamental 
tone  to  character,  have  their  roots  in  the 
organism,  are  pre-determined  by  it.  The 
same  is  true  of  the  highest  intellectual 
manifestations.  Nevertheless  since  the 
psychic  states  have  here  a  predominant 
role,  we  will  treat  them  as  immediate 
causes  of  changes  of  personality,  the 
while  never  forgetting  that  these  causes 
are  in  their  turn  themselves  effects. 

Without  pretending  strictly  to  classify 
affective  manifestations  (which  we  shall 
not  have  to  consider  in  detail)  we  will  re- 
duce them  to  three  groups  of  increasing 
psychological  complexity  but  decreasing 
physiological  importance.  These  are  i. 
Tendencies  connected  with  the  conserva- 
tion of  the  individual  (nutrition,  defense) ; 
2.  Those  which  relate  to  the  conservation 
of  the  species ;  and  3.  The  highest  of 
them  all,  those  which  presuppose  the  de- 
velopment of  mind  (manifestations  of  a 
moral,  religious,  aesthetic,  or  scientific 
kind  ;  ambition  in  all  its  forms  ;  and  the 
like).  If  we  consider  the  development  of 
the  individual  we  find  that  it  is  in  this 
order  that  feelings  and  sentiments  make 
their  appearance.  It  is  seen  more  clearly 
still  in  the  evolution  of  the  human  spe- 
cies. The  inferior  races,  where  educa- 
tion does  not  come  in  to  correct  nature, 
when  they  bring  together  the  accumulated 
result  of  ages  of  labor,  have  little  to  show 
beyond  the  conservation  of  the  individual 


t  De   FAperception    du   Corps  Humain  par  /* 
Conscience,  p.  269,  et  seg. 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


and  of  the  species,  and  present  only  the 
faintest  trace  of  the  sentiments  enumer- 
ated under  the  third  head. 

The  affective  states  relating  to  nutrition 
are,  in  the  child  during  its  early  years, 
the  only  element,  so  to  speak,  of  the  nas- 
cent personality.  From  these  come  well- 
being  and  discomfort,  desire  and  aver- 
sion :  here  we  see  that  "  bodily  sense," 
of  which  we  have  spoken  so  often,  arrived 
at  its  highest  psychic  expression.  Inas- 
much as  certain  natural  causes,  too  evi- 
dent to  need  enumeration,  make  nutrition 
the  almost  exclusively  dominant  concern- 
ment in  the  infant,  the  babe  has  and  can 
have  only  an  almost  entirely  nutritive 
personality,  /.  e.,  the  vaguest  and  lowest 
form  of  personality.  The  Me,  in  the 
view  of  whoever  does  not  consider  it  as 
an  entity,  cannot  be  here  anything  but  an 
extremely  simple  composite. 

As  we  quit  the  period  of  infancy,  nu- 
trition plays  a  less  dominant  part,  but  it 
never  loses  its  just  place,  for,  of  all  the 
properties  of  the  living  being,  this  one 
alone  is  fundamental.  Hence  with  vari- 
ations in  nutrition  are  connected  serious 
alterations  of  personality.  With  nutri- 
tion reduced,  the  individual  feels  himself 
depressed,  enfeebled,  diminished.  With 
nutrition  increased,  he  feels  himself  stim- 
ulated, strengthened,  reinforced.  Of  all 
the  functions  whose  harmonious  action 
constitutes  this  fundamental  property  of 
living  beings,  the  circulation  appears  to 
be  the  one  whose  sudden  variations  have 
the  greatest  influence  upon  the  affective 
states,  and  are  most  speedily  answered 
by  a  counter-stroke.  But  we  must  quit 
conjectures  about  details,  and  look  at 
the  facts. 

In  the  states  known  as  hypochondria, 
lypemania,  melancholia  (in  all  its  forms), 
we  find  alterations  of  personality  rang- 
ing through  all  possible  degrees,  includ- 
ing complete  metamorphosis.  Physicians 
draw  lines  of  clinical  distinction  between 
these  different  morbid  states,  but  they  do 
not  concern  us  just  now,  and  we  may 
comprise  them  under  one  common  de- 
scription. There  is  a  certain  feeling  of 
fatigue,  oppression,  anxiety,  down-heart- 
•edness,  sadness,  absence  of  desire,  per- 
sistent ennui.  In  the  worst  cases,  the 
springs  of  the  emotions  are  quite  dried 
up.  "  The  patients  become  insensible  to 
•everything.  They  are  without  affection, 
whether  for  their  parents  or  for  their  chil- 
dren, and  even  the  death  of  those  who 
•once  were  dear  to  them  leaves  them  ut- 
terly cold  and  indifferent.  They  can  no 
longer  weep,  and  nought  save  their  own 


sufferings  moves  them."*  Then,  as  re- 
gards bodily  or  mental  activity  :  such  pa- 
tients exhibit  torpor,  powerlessness  to  act 
or  even  to  will,  insuperable  inaction  for 
hours  at  a  time  :  in  a  word  that  "  abu- 
lia  "  all  the  forms  of  which  we  studied  in 
the  work  on  Diseases  of  the  Will,  f 
As  regards  the  outer  world,  the  patient, 
though  not  hallucinated,  finds  all  his  re- 
lations to  it  changed.  His  habitual  sen- 
sations seem  to  have  lost  their  usual  char- 
acter. "  Everything  about  me,"  .said 
such  a  patient,  "is  still  as  it  used  to  be, 
yet  there  must  have  been  some  changes. 
Things  still  wear  their  old  shapes  :  I  see 
them  plainly,  and  yet  they  have  -changed 
a  good  deal  too."  One  of  Esquirol's  pa- 
tients complained  "  that  his  existence  was 
incomplete.  'Every  one  of  my  senses,' 
he  used  to  say,  '  every  part  of  myself  is, 
so  to  speak,  separated  from  me,  and  no 
longer  gives  me  any  sensation  :  it  seems 
to  me  that  I  never  come  quite  up  to' the 
things  I  touch.'  "  This  state,  due  some- 
times to  cutaneous  anaesthesia,  may  be- 
come so  intensified  that  to  the  patient  "  it 
seems  as  though  the  real  world  had  com- 
pletely vanished  or  is  dead,  and  that  only 
an  imaginary  world  remains  in  which  he 
is  anxious  to  find  his  place."  \  To  all 
this,  add  the  physical  symptoms,  viz.,  dis- 
ordered circulation,  respiration,  and  se- 
cretion. There  may  be  great  emaciation, 
and  the  weight  of  the  body  may  decline 
rapidly  during  the  period  of  depression. 
The  respiratory  function  is  retarded 
as  also  the  circulation,  and  the  body's 
temperature  is  lowered. 

By  degrees  these  morbid  states  become 
embodied,  organized,  and  combine  to 
produce  a  false  conception  which  becomes 
a  center  of  attraction  toward  which 
everything  converges.  One  patient  avers 
that  his  heart  is  a  stone,  another  that  his 
nerves  are  burning  coals  ;  and  so  on. 
These  aberrations  have  all  sorts  of  forms, 
and  they  differ  from  one  patient  to  an- 
other. In  extreme  forms,  the  individual 
doubts  of  his  own  existence,  or  denies  it. 
A  young  man  who  said  he  was  for  two 
years  dead,  expressed  as  follows  his  per- 
plexity :  "  I  exist,  but  outside  of  real, 
material  life,  and  in  spite  of  myself,  noth- 
ing having  given  me  death.  Everything 
is  mechanical  with  me,  and  everything  is 
done  unconsciously."  This  contradictory 
situation,  in  which  the  subject  says  that 

*  Falret,  Archives  Generates  de  Me'decine,  Dec., 
1878. 

t  No.  52  HUMBOLDT  LIBRARY. 

J  Griesinger,  TraiM  des  Maladies  Mentatcs 
( French  Trans.),  p.  265. 


2O 


THE   DISEASES   OF  PERSONALITY. 


he  is  at  once  living  and  dead,  would  seem 
to  be  the  logical,  natural  expression  of  a 
condition  of  things  in  which  the  former 
Me  and  the  present  Me,  vitality  and  an- 
nihilation, come  to  equilibrium. 

The  psychological  interpretation  of  all 
these  cases  admits  of  no  doubt :  here  are 
organic  perturbations  whose  first  result 
is  to  reduce  the  sense-faculty  in  general, 
and  whose  second  is  to  pervert  it.  Thus 
is  found  a  group  of  organic  and  psychic 
states  that  tend  to  modify  the  constitution 
of  the  Me  profoundly  and  in  its  inmost 
nature,  because  they  act  not  after  the 
manner  of  sudden  emotions  whose  effect 
is  violent  and  superficial,  but  slowly,  si- 
lently, persistently.  At  first,  this  new 
state  seems  strange  to  the  individual, 
something  outside  of  himself.  Little  by 
little,  through  custom,  it  finds  its  place, 
becomes  an  integral  part  of  the  individ- 
ual's being,  and,  if  it  is  progressive,  trans- 
forms him  entirely. 

Seeing  how  the  Me  is  broken  up,  we 
can  understand  how  it  comes  to  be. 
Doubtless,  in  most  cases,  the  change  is 
only  partial.  The  individual,  while  be- 
coming for  himself  and  for  those  who 
know  him,  other  than  he  used  to  be,  re- 
tains a  residuum  of  himself.  Complete 
transformation  can,  in  fact,  be  only  of 
rare  occurrence  -,  and  it. may  be  remarked 
that  when  the  patient  says  he  is  changed, 
transformed,  despite  the  contradiction  or 
the  ridicule  of  his  friends,  he  is  right  and 
not  they.  He  cannot  feel  otherwise,  for 
his  consciousness  is  but  the  expression  of 
his  organic  state.  Subjectively,  he  is  not 
at  all  under  an  illusion  :  he  is  just  what  he 
must  be.  On  the  contrary  it  is  the  un- 
conscious, unavowed  hypothesis  of  a  Me, 
independent  and  existing  by  itself  as  an 
unchangeable  entity,  that  instinctively 
leads  us  to  believe  this  change  to  be  an 
external  occurrence — or,  as  it  were,  some 
unwonted  or  ridiculous  garb,  while  the 
fact  is  that  the  change  is  inward  and  in- 
volves gains  or  losses  in  the  very  sub- 
stance of  the  Me  itself. 

The  counterpart  of  these  partial  altera- 
tions of  the  Me  is  seen  in  cases 
where  it  becomes  exalted,  amplified, 
and  where  it  immeasurably  transcends 
its  normal  tone.  Instances  of  this  are 
seen  in  the  beginning  of  general  paral- 
ysis; also  in  certain  cases  of  mania. 
This  is  in  every  respect  the  reverse  of 
what  occurs  in  those  other  cases.  Here 
we  see  the  patient  possessed  of  a  sense 
of  physical  and  mental  well-being,  of 
abounding  strength,  of  exuberant  activ- 
ity .  he  talks  unceasingly,  is  a  fertile  de- 


viser of  projects  and  undertakings,  ever 
traveling  hither  and  thither  to  no  pur- 
pose. The  superexcitation  of  his  psychic 
life  has  a  corresponding  superactivity  of 
the  organic  functions.  Nutrition  be- 
comes more  active  and  is  often  excessive  ; 
respiration  and  circulation  are  acceler- 
ated ;  the  genital  function  is  quickened. 
Yet,  despite  the  great  expenditure  of 
force,  the  patient  feels  no  fatigue.  Then 
these  states  become  grouped  and  unified, 
and  at  length  they  in  great  part  trans- 
form the  Me.  One  man  is  conscious  of 
herculean  strength,  is  able  to  lift  prodig- 
ious weights,  to  beget  thousands  of  chil- 
dren, run  a  race  with  a  railroad  train,  etc. 
Another  possesses  an  inexhaustible  store 
of  science,  is  a  great  poet,  great  inventor, 
great  artist,  and  so  on.  Sometimes  the 
transformation  comes  still  nearer  to  com- 
plete metamorphosis :  mastered  by  the 
sense  of  boundless  power,  the  patient 
calls  himself  pope,  emperor,  god.  As 
Griesinger  justly  remarks, 

"  The  patient  feeling  proud,  daring,  light 
hearted,  conscious  to  himself  of  unwonted 
freedom  in  executing  his  projects,  his  mind 
swarming  with  ideas,  is  naturally  led  to  con- 
ceive thoughts  of  greatness,  station,  wealth, 
great  moral  or  intellectual  power.  *  *  * 
This  overweening  sense  of  strength  and  free- 
dom must  however  have  a  reason :  there 
must  exist  in  the  Me  something  to  corre- 
spond to  this  ;  the  Me  must  have  become  for 
the  time  being  something  quite  different 
from  what  it  was  before,  and  this  change  can 
be  expressed  by  the  patient  only  by  declar- 
ing himself  to  be  Napoleon,  the  Messiah,  or 
some  other  exalted  personage."* 

We  will  not  waste  time  in  proving  that 
this  transformation  of  the  Me,  whether, 
partial  or  complete,  momentary  or  perma- 
nent, is  in  kind  the  same  as  the  preceding 
cases  and  that  it  presupposes  the  same 
mechanism,  with  this  only  difference,  that 
here  the  Me  undergoes  dissolution  in  the 
reverse  way,  by  excess,  and  not  by  default. 

These  plus  or  minus  alterations  of 
personality,  this  metamorphosis  of  the 
Me,  which  raises  it  or  lowers,  would  be 
still  more  striking  if  they  succeeded  one 
another  regularly  in  the  same  individual. 
Now  this  occurs  often  in  what  is  called 
folie  ctrculaire,  or  folie  a  double  forme, 
a  malady  characterized  essentially  by  suc- 
cessive periods  of  depression  and  exalta- 
tion following  one  another  in  fixed  order, 
with  intermissions  of  lucidity  in  some  pa- 
tients. Here  we  observe  a  curious  fact. 
Upon  the  personality  that  may  be  called 


*  Op.  cit.,  p.  333. 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


21 


the  original  and  fundamental  one,  are 
grafted,  one  after  the  other,  two  new  per- 
sonalities not  only  quite  distinct,  but  to- 
tally exclusive  of  each  other.  Upon  this 
point  it  is  necessary  to  give  the  gist  of 
a  few  observations.*  A  woman  whose 
case  was  observed  by  Morel,  had  been 
abandoned  to  a  vicious  life  by  her  mother 
from  the  age  of  fourteen  years. 

"  Later,  in  her  shame  and  wretchedness, 
her  only  resource  was  to  enter  a  brothel. 
She  was  taken  thence  one  year  afterward  and 
placed  in  the  convent  of  the  Good  Shepherd 
at  Metz.  Here  she  stayed  two  years,  and 
the  too  strong  reaction  that  took  place  in  her 
feelings  gave  rise  to  religious  mania,  which 
was  followed  by  a  period  of  profound  stupid- 
ity." 

Being  now  placed  under  the  care  of  a 
physician,  she  would  pass  through  two 
alternate  periods,  believing  herself  to  be 
in  turn  prostitute  and  nun.  On  emerg- 
ing from  the  period  of  stupidity, 

41  she  would  go  to  work  regularly,  and  her 
language  was  always  proper,  but  she  would 
arrange  her  toilet  with  a  certain  coquetterie. 
Then  this  tendency  would  increase,  her  eyes 
growing  brighter,  her  glance  lascivious  ;  she 
would  dance  and  sing.  At  last  her  obscene 
language  and  her  erotic  solicitations  would 
compel  her  sequestration  in  solitary  confine- 
ment. She  would  say  her  name  was  Mad- 
ame Poulmaire,  and  would  give  the  fullest 
details  of  her  former  life  in  prostitution. 
Then,  after  a  period  of  depression,  she 
would  become  again  gentle  and  timid,  carry- 
ing even  to  scrupulousness  the  sense  of  pro- 
priety. She  would  now  arrange  her  toilet 
with  the  utmost  austerity.  The  tone  of  her 
voice  too  would  assume  a  peculiar  character, 
as  she  spoke  of  the  Good  Shepherd  convent 
at  Metz  and  of  her  longing  to  return  thither. 
Now  her  name  would  be  Sister  Martha  of 
the  Five  Wounds,  Theresa  of  Jesus,  Mary  of 
the  Resurrection,  etc.  She  would  not  speak 
in  the  first  person  singular,  but  would  say  to 
the  attendant  sister,  '  Take  our  dress ' ; 
*  there  is  our  handkerchief.'  Nothing  was 
her  own  any  more,  according  to  the  rule  in 
•convents.  She  would  have  visions  of  angels 
smiling  upon  her,  and  moments  of  ecstasy." 

In  a  case  reported  by  Krafft-Ebing,  a 
neuropathic  patient,  son  of  an  insane  fa- 
ther, "  during  the  period  of  depression 
was  disgusted  with  the  world,  and  all  his 
thoughts  were  about  the  nearness  of 
death,  and  about  eternity,  and  his  pur- 
pose then  was  to  become  a  priest.  Dur- 
ing his  maniacal  periods  he  was  noisy 


*  They  can  be  found  in  extenso  in  Ritti,  Traite 
Cliniaue  de  la  Folie  et  Double  Forme.  Paris,  1883. 
Obss.  XVII.,  XIX.,  XXX.,  XXXI. 


pursued  his  studies  with  mad  ardor, 
would  not  hear  of  theology,  and  thought 
only  of  practicing  medicine/' 

An  insane  woman  at  Charenton,  pos- 
sessing very  remarkable  power  and  origi- 
nality of  mind, 

"  from  day  to  day  would  change  in  personality, 
in  condition,  in  life,  and  even  in  sex.  Now 
she  would  be  a  young  lady  of  blood  royal 
betrothed  to  an  emperor ;  anon  a  plebeian 
woman  and  a  democrat :  to-day  a  wife  and  in 
the  family  way ;  to-morrow  still  a  maid.  It 
would  happen  also  that  she  would  think  her- 
self a  man,  and  one  day  she  imagined  herself 
to  be  a  political  prisoner  of  importance,  and 
composed  some  verses  upon  the  subject." 

Finally  in  the  observation  which  fol- 
lows we  find  the  complete  formation  of 
a  second  personality. 

"  A  lunatic  in  the  Maison  de  Vanves,"  says 
Billod,t  "  about  every  eight  months  would 
let  his  beard  grow  and  would  show  himself 
to  all  the  inmates  in  unusual  garb  and  with 
unwonted  behavior,  giving  himself  out  to  be 
one  Nabon,  an  artillery  lieutenant  lately  re- 
turned from  Africa  to  take  the  place  of  his 
brother.  The  patient  would  then  remain 
several  months  in  a  state  of  great  exultation, 
adapting  all  his  conduct  to  his  new  charac- 
ter. After  some  time  he  would  announce 
the  return  of  his  brother  who,  he  would  say, 
was  in  the  village  and  was  now  to  take  his 
place.  Then  some  day  he  would  have  his 
beard  shaved  off,  would  make  a  complete 
change  in  his  habits  and  demeanor,  and 
would  resume  his  true  name.  But  now  he 
would  present  all  the  signs  of  melancholia, 
walking  about  slowly,  loving  silence  and 
solitude,  continually  reading  the  Following 
of  Christ  and  the  Fathers  of  the  Church.  In 
this  mental  state,  a  lucid  one  if  you  please, 
but  one  that  I  am  far  from  considering  as 
normal,  he  would  remain  till  the  coming 
back  of  *  Lieutenant  Nabon.'  " 

The  two  cases  first  cited  are,  in  reality, 
but  an  exaggeration,  a  largely  magnified 
copy,  so  to  speak,  of  the  normal  state. 
The  Me  is  always  made  up  of  contradic- 
tory tendencies — virtues  and  vices,  mod- 
esty and  arrogance,  avarice  and  prodi- 
gality, desire  for  rest  and  need  of  action, 
and  so  on.  Usually  these  opposite  tend- 
encies equilibrate  one  another,  or  at  least 
the  one  which  dominates  is  not  without 
its  counterpoise.  In  the  cases  before  us, 
in  virtue  of  pretty  well  ascertained  or- 
ganic conditions,  not  only  is  equilibrium 
impossible,  but  a  group  of  tendencies  be- 
comes hypertrophied  at  the  expense  of 
the  antagonist  group,  which  becomes 


t  Annales  Medico-psychologiques,  1858. 


22 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


atrophied  ;  then  an  inverse  reaction  takes 
place,  so  that  the  personality,  instead  of 
consisting  of  those  mean  oscillations 
whereof  each  one  represents  one  side  of 
human  nature,  passes  ever  from  one  ex- 
cess to  another.  We  may  remark  that 
these  diseases  of  personality  consist  of  a 
reduction  to  a  simpler  state  :  but  we  must 
not  yet  dwell  upon  that  point. 


Nutrition  being  less  a  function  than 
the  fundamental  property  of  whatever 
has  life,  the  tendencies  and  the  feelings 
connected  with  it  possess  a  very  general 
character.  The  same  cannot  be  said  of 
what  concerns  the  conservation  of  the 
species.  That  function,  attached  as  it  is 
to  a  definite  part  of  the  organism,  finds 
expression  in  very  definite  feelings. 
Hence  this  is  well  fitted  to  verify  our 
thesis ;  for  if  personality  is  a  composite 
varying  according  to  its  constituent  ele- 
ments, a  change  in  the  sex  instincts  will 
change  the  personality,  a  perversion  will 
pervert  it,  an  interversion  will  intervert  it : 
and  this  is  just  what  happens. 

First  let  us  recall  some  known  facts, 
though  commonly  the  conclusions  they 
enforce  are  not  drawn.  At  puberty  a 
new  group  of  sensations  and  consequently 
of  feelings,  sentiments  and  ideas  comes 
into  existence.  This  influx  of  unwonted 
psychic  states — stable  because  their  cause 
is  stable,  coordinated  to  one  another  be- 
cause their  source  is  one — tends  pro- 
foundly to  modify  the  constitution  of  the 
Me.  It  feels  undecided,  troubled  with  a 
vague  and  latent  unrest  whose  cause  is 
hid.  Little  by  little  these  new  elements 
of  the  moral  life  are  assimilated  by  the 
existing  Me,  enter  into  it,  are  converted 
into  it,  withal  making  it  other  than  it  was. 
It  is  changed ;  a  partial  alteration  of  the 
personality  has  taken  place,  the  result  o) 
which  has  been  to  produce  a  new  type  oi 
character — the  sexual  character.  This 
development  of  an  organ  and  of  its  func- 
tions, with  their  train  of  instincts,  imagin- 
ings, feelings,  sentiments  and  ideas,  has 
produced  in  the  neuter  personality  of  the 
child  a  differentiation — has  made  of  it  a 
Me  male'or  female,  in  the  complete  sense 
of  the  term.  Till  now  there  existed  only 
a  sort  of  rough  draft  \dbauche\  of  the 
complete  personality,  but  that  has  served 
to  obviate  all  sudden  shock  in  the  change 
to  prevent  a  rupture  between  the  past 
and  the  present,  to  make  the  personality 
continuous. 

If  now  we  pass  from  the  normal  devel- 
opment to  exceptional  and  pathological 


cases,  we  shall  find  variations  or  trans- 
ormations  of  personality  dependent  on 
the  state  of  the  genital  organs. 

The  effect  of  castration  upon  animals  is 
well-known.  Not  less  known  is  its  effect 
upon  man.  A  few  exceptions  apart  (and 
uch  are  found  even  in  history)  eunuchs 
present  a  deviation  from  the  psychic  type. 
'  Whatever  we  know  about  them,"  says 
Maudsley,  "  confirms  the  belief  that  they 
are  for  the  most  part  false,  lying,  coward- 
ly, envious,  revengeful,  void  of  social  and 
moral  feeling,  mutilated  in  soul  as  well 
as  in  body."  Whether  this  moral  degra- 
dation be  the  direct  result  of  castration, 
as  some  authors  assert,  or  whether  it  re- 
sult from  an  equivocal  social  situation,  is 
a  question  that  does  not  affect  our  thesis  : 
whether  the  result  comes  directly  or  in- 
directly from  the  mutilation,  the  cause 
remains  the  same. 

As  regards  hermaphrodites  experience 
verifies  what  we  might  have  predicted  a 
priori.  With  the  characteristics  of  one 
sex  they  present  some  of  those  peculiar 
to  the  other,  but  instead  of  combining  the 
functions  of  both,  they  possess  only  im- 
perfect organs,  and  commonly  these  are 
sexually  impotent.  The  moral  character 
of  hermaphrodites  is  sometimes  neutral, 
again  masculine,  in  other  cases  feminine. 
Abundant  instances  are  cited  by  writers 
who  have  treated  the  question.  *  "  Some- 
times the  hermaphrodite,  after  having 
shown  a  very  strong  liking  for  women,  is 
animated  with  the  very  opposite  instincts 
by  the  descent  of  the  testicles."  In  a  case 
recently  observed  by  Dr.  Magitot  an  her- 
maphrodite woman  successively  mani- 
fested feminine  tastes  and  very  pro- 
nounced masculine  appetites.  "  In  gen- 
eral the  affective  faculties  and  the  moral 
dispositions  show  the  effects  of  the  mal- 
formation of  the  organs.  Nevertheless, 
it  is  but  fair  "  says  Tardieu,  "  to  make 
large  allowance  for  the  influence  of  the 
habits  and  occupations  imposed  upon 
these  individuals  by  the  error  as  to  their 
real  sex.  Some  of  them  being  from  the 
first  educated  as  girls,  dressed  as  girls, 
employed  in  women's  work,  married  per- 
haps as  women,  retain  the  thoughts,  the 
habits,  the  demeanor  of  the  female  sex. 
Such  was  the  case  with  Maria  Arsano, 
deceased  at  the  age  of  eighty  years,  who 
was  in  fact  a  man  whose  character  had 
been  made  feminine  by  habit." 

I  do  not  propose   here   to  detail  the 


*  For  the  facts  see  Isidore  Geoffrey  Saint-Hil- 
aire  Histoire  des  Anomalies  vol.  II.,  p.  65,  et  sey. 
Also  Taraieu  and  Laugier,  Dictionnaire  de  Me'de- 
cine,  art.  HERMAPHRODISMK. 


THE   DISEASES   OF  PERSONALITY. 


perversions  or  aberrations  of  the  sexual 
instinct,  *  each  one  of  which  imprints  its 
mark  upon  the  personality,  altering  it 
more  or  less,  transiently  or  permanently. 
These  partial  alterations  reach  their  term 
in  total  transformation,  in  change  of  sex. 
There  are  many  instances  of  this  :  the 
following  may  serve  as  a  type.  Lalle- 
mant  records  the  case  of  "  a  patient  who 
believed  himself  to  be  a  woman,  and  who 
wrote  letters  to  an  imaginary  lover. 
At  the  autopsy  there  was  found  an  hyper- 
trophy with  induration  of  the  prostate, 
and  an  alteration  of  the  ejaculatory 
canals."  It  is  probable  that  in  many 
cases  of  this  kind  there  has  been  perver- 
sion or  abolition  of  the  sexual  feelings. 

Some  exceptions,  however,  are  to  be 
noted.  From  sundry  detailed  observations 
(which  see  in  Leuret,  Fragments  Psy- 
chol.,  p.  114  et  seg.)  we  learn  of  individ- 
uals who  assume  the  gait,  the  habit,  the 
voice,  and,  as  far  as  they  may,  the  garb 
of  the  sex  they  imagine  themselves  to  be- 
long to,  though  they  present  no  anatomi- 
cal or  physiological  anomaly  of  the  sex- 
ual organs.  In  such  cases  the  starting 
point  of  the  metamorphosis  is  to  be 
sought  elsewhere :  it  must  be  found  in 
the  cerebro-spinal  organ.  Indeed  when 
we  speak  of  the  sexual  organs  as  consti- 
tuting or  as  modifying  personality,  we  are 
to  be  understood  as  speaking,  not  of 
those  organs  themselves  alone  as  defined 
by  their  anatomic  conformation,  but  also 
of  their  relations  to  the  encephalon,  in 
which  they  are  represented.  Physiolo- 
gists locate  in  the  lumbar  region  of  the 
spinal  column  the  reflex  genito-spinal 
center.  From  that  center  to  the  brain  all 
is  undiscovered  territory  ;  for  the  hypoth- 
esis of  Gall,  who  made  the  cerebellum 
the  seat  of  physical  love,  is  not  much  in 
favor,  despite  the  confirmatory  observa- 
tions of  Budge  and  of  Lussana.  But 
however  great  our  ignorance  upon  this 
point,  sexilal  impressions  must  reach  the 
encephalon,  for  they  are  felt,  and  there 
are  centers  from  which  psychic  incitations 
are  sent  out  to  the  sexual  organs  to  put 
them  in  action.  These  nerve-elements, 
whatever  their  nature,  their  number,  or 
their  seat ;  whether  they  are  localized  or 
diffused,  are  the  cerebral,  and  conse- 
quently the  psychic,  representatives  of 
the  sexual  organs  ;  and  since  in  produc- 
ing a  special  state  of  consciousness  they 
usually  produce  others  also,  there  must 


*  For  a  full  discussion  of  this  question  see  the 
article  by  Dr.  Gley,  "  Sur  les  Aberrations  de  1'  In- 
stinct Sexuel"  in  the  Revue  Philosophique,  Jan. 
1884. 


be  some  association  between  this  group 
of  psycho-physiological  states  and  a  cer- 
tain number  of  others.  The  conclusion 
to  be  drawn  from  the  cases  already  cited, 
is  that  there  has  arisen  a  cerebral  disorder 
of  unknown  character  (a  woman  suppos- 
ing herself  to  be  a  man,  or  vice  versa) 
whence  results  a  fixed  erroneous  state  of 
consciousness.  This  fixed  state  of  con- 
sciousness, predominating  over  the  nor- 
mal states,  calls  forth  natural,  almost 
anatomical  associations,  which  are  as  it 
were  its  radiations  (the  feelings,  the  ways, 
the  speech,  the  dress  of  the  imaginary 
sex) :  it  tends  to  complete  itself.  Here 
is  a  metamorphosis  from  above  not  from 
below  ;  and  here  we  have  an  instance  of 
what  is  called  the  influence  of  the  moral 
upon  the  physical.  We  will  endeavor  to 
show  further  on  that  the  Me  upon  which 
most  psychologists  have  based  their  rea- 
sonings is  formed  by  a  like  process. 
Further  these  cases  belong  among  the 
intellective  deviations  of  personality,  of 
which  we  shall  treat  in  the  next  chapter. 
Before  we  quit  this  subject,  I  would 
notice  a  few  facts  hard  to  account  for, 
but  which  nevertheless  cannot  be  seri- 
ously alleged  against  our  thesis.  I  refer 
to  the  phenomenon  of  "  opposite  sex- 
uality "  {sexualit^  contraire}  often  men- 
tioned of  late,  and  about  which  a  few 
words  will  suffice.  Certain  patients  ob- 
served by  Westphal,  Krafft-Ebing,  Char- 
cot  and  Magnan,  Servaes,  Gock,  et  al., 
present  a  congenital  introversion  of  the 
sexual  instinct,  whence  results,  despite 
their  normal  physical  constitution,  an  in- 
stinctive and  violent  attraction  to  a  per- 
son of  the  same  sex,  with  strong  repul- 
sion toward  the  opposite  sex  :  in  short,  "  a 
woman  will  be  a  woman  physically  but 
psychically  a  man  :  a  man  will  be  physi- 
cally a  man,  psychically  a  woman." 
These  facts  are  entirely  at  variance  with 
what  logic  and  experience  teach  us  :  here 
the  physical  and  the  moral  are  in  mutual 
contradiction.  Strictly  speaking,  those 
who  regard  the  Me  as  an  entity  might 
quote  these  facts  as  proving  its  indepen- 
dence, its  autonomous  existence.  Never- 
theless that  were  a  gross  illusion,  for  their 
whole  argument  would  rest  upon  two  very 
weak  bases,  viz.,  on  some  facts  of  very 
rare  occurrence,  and  on  the  present  diffi- 
culty of  finding  an  explanation  of  them. 
No  one  will  deny  that  cases  of  "  opposite 
sexuality  "  are  but  an  infinitesimal  fac- 
tion of  the  sum  of  the  cases  known  to 
us  by  experience.  By  their  rarity  they 
form  an  exception,  and  by  their  nature  a 
psychological  monstrosity  :  but  monstros-- 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


ities  are  not  miracles,  and  it  behooves  us 
to  find  out  whence  they  come. 

We  might  attempt  to  account  for  them 
in  many  ways,  but  that  usually  means 
that  no  explanation  is  sufficient.  I  will 
not  inflict  these  explanations  upon  the 
reader.  Like  every  other  science,  psy- 
chology must  be  resigned  to  be  ignorant 
for  a  time,  and  must  not  fear  to  confess 
ignorance.  Herein  it  differs  from  meta- 
physics, which  undertakes  to  explain  all 
things.  Physicians  who  from  their  own 
medical  point  of  view  have  studied  these 
strange  creatures,  regard  them  as  degen- 
erate individuals.  The  point  of  special 
interest  for  us  would  be  to  know  why 
degenerescence  takes  this  form  and  not 
another.  Probably  the  explication  of 
this  mystery  is  to  be  sought  in  the  mul- 
tiple elements  of  heredity,  in  the  complex 
play  of  the  conflicting  male  and  female 
elements :  I  leave  the  question  to  minds 
more  clear-sighted  and  more  fortunate 
in  discovering  the  causes  of  things.  But 
aside  from  the  question  of  the  cause,  one 
can  hardly  refuse  to  recognize  a  devia- 
tion of  the  cerebral  mechanism,  as  in  the 
cases  quoted  by  .Leuret,  and  in  like  in- 
stances. But  the  influence  of  the  sexual 
organs  upon  the  nature  and  formation  of 
character  is  so  little  open  to  question 
that  to  dwell  upon  it  were  to  waste  time, 
and  an  hypothetical  explanation  of  "  op- 
posite sexuality  "  would  in  no  wise  further 
our  research. 


The  instincts,  desires,  tendencies,  senti- 
ments, etc.,  that  relate  to  the  conserva- 
tion of  the  individual  and  to  that  of  the 
species,  have  their  material  conditions 
clearly  determined,  the  former  in  the 
totality  of  organic  life,  the  latter  in  a 
special  set  of  organs.  But  when  from 
the  primordial  and  fundamental  forms  of 
the  affective  life  we  pass  to  those  which 
are  of  secondary  formation  and  which 
have  sprung  up  later  in  the  course  of 
evolution  (tendencies  social,  moral,  intel- 
lectual, aesthetic,  etc.),  then,  to  say  noth- 
ing of  the  impossibility  of  assigning  to 
these  their  direct  organic  bases,  we  find 
that  they  are  by  no  means  so  general ; 
none  of  them,  except  perhaps  the  moral 
and  the  social  tendencies,  express  the 
individual  in  his  totality  ;  they  are  partial, 
and  represent  only  one  group  in  the  sum 
total  of  his  tendencies.  Hence  no  one  of 
them  has  of  itself  the  power  of  producing 
a  metamorphosis  of  the  personality.  As 
long  as  the  habitude  we  call  bodily  sense 
(or  ccenassthesis)  and  that  other  habitude 


which  is  memory,  do  not  come  into  play, 
there  can  be  no    complete  transforma- 
tion :  the  individual  may  be  changed,  he  ' 
does  not  become  another. 

But  these  variations,  though  partial, 
are  interesting.  They  show  the  tran- 
sition from  the  normal  to  the  morbid 
state.  In  studying  the  diseases  of  the 
will  *  we  found  in  ordinary  life  many  fore- 
shadowings  of  the  graver  forms.  Here, 
too,  common  observation  shows  us  how 
little  cohesion  and  unity  the  normal  Me 
possesses.  Apart  from  perfectly  bal- 
anced characters  (though  in  the  strict 
sense  of  the  term  such  characters  do  not 
exist)  there  are  in  every  one  of  us  ten- 
dencies of  every  kind,  in  every  degree  of 
contrariety,  with  all  possible  intermediate 
shades  of  difference,  and  with  all  sorts  of 
combinations  between  them.  For  the 
Me  is  not  merely  a  memory,  an  accu- 
mulation of  recollections  linked  to  the 
present  moment,  but  a  sum  of  instincts, 
tendencies,  desires,  which  are  simply  its 
innate  and  acquired  constitution  entering 
into  action.  Memory  is  the  Me  statical, 
the  group  of  tendencies  is  the  Me  dynam- 
ical. If,  instead  of  being  influenced  un- 
consciously by  the  idea  of  the  Me  being 
an  entity — a  prejudgment  instilled  into 
us  both  by  education  and  by  the  so- 
called  testimony  of  consciousness — we 
were  to  take  it  for  what  it  is,  namely  a 
coordination  of  tendencies  and  of  psychic 
states  whose  proximate  cause  is  to  be 
sought  in  the  coordination  and  consen- 
sus of  the  organism,  we  should  no  longer 
be  surprised  at  its  oscillations — incessant 
in  fickle,  but  rare  in  stable  characters — 
which  for  a  longer  or  a  shorter  time,  or 
even  for  an  almost  infinitesimal  instant, 
exhibit  the  person  in  a  new  light.  Some 
organic  state,  some  external  influence, 
reinforces  some  tendency ;  it  becomes  a 
center  of  attraction  toward  which  con- 
verge the  directly  associated  states  and 
tendencies  ;  then  associations  grow  closer 
and  closer ;  the  center  of  gravity  of  the 
Me  becomes  displaced,  and  the  person- 
ality is  altered.  "  Two  souls  "  said  Goethe 
"dwell  in  my  breast."  Nor  two  only! 
If  the  moralists,  poets,  dramatists  have 
shown  us  to  satiety  these  two  Mes  con- 
tending in  one  Me,  common  experience 
shows  yet  more  ;  it  shows  us  many  Mes, 
each  as  it  comes  to  the  forefront,  exclud- 
ing the  others.  This  is  less  dramatic, 
but  more  true.  "  Our  Me  differs  widely 
from  itself  at  different  times:  according 


*  See  the  work  so  entitled  (HUMBOLDT  LIBRARY 
No.  52). 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


to  a  person's  age,  his  various  duties,  the 
occurrences  of  his  life,  the  excitements  of 
the  moment,  such  or  such  an  aggrega- 
tion of  ideas  which  at  a  given  moment 
represents  the  Me,  becomes  more  highly 
developed  than  others,  and  takes  the 
foremost  place.  We  are  another  and  yet 
the  same.  My  Me  as  physician,  my  Me 
as  man  of  science,  my  sensuous,  my 
moral  Me,  etc.,  in  other  words,  the  com- 
plex of  ideas,  inclinations,  will-tenden- 
cies, so  denominated,  may  at  any  time 
come  into  a  state  of  mutual  opposition 
and  repulsion.  This  would  result  not 
only  in  discord  and  scission  between 
thought  and  will,  but  also  in  total  loss  of 
power,  for  each  of  these  two  isolated 
phases  of  the  Me,  if  in  all  these  spheres 
there  was  not  a  more  or  less  open  way 
for  the  return  of  the  consciousness  of 
some  of  these  fundamental  directions."  * 
The  orator,  master  of  speech,  who  while 
speaking  judges  himself ;  the  actor  who 
notes  his  own  performance  ;  the  psychol- 
ogist who  studies  himself,  all  are  in- 
stances of  this  normal  scission  of  the  Me. 
Between  these  momentary  and  partial 
transformations  (which  because  they  are 
common  do  not  strike  one  as  psychologi- 
cally important)  and  the  more  serious 
states  we  have  yet  to  consider,  there  ex- 
ist intermediate  variations  either  more 
stable  or  more  far-reaching,  or  both. 
The  dipsomaniac,  for  example,  leads  two 
alternate  lives :  in  one  he  is  sober,  dis- 
creet, industrious;  in  the  other  quite 
overmastered  by  passion,  reckless,  heed- 
less. It  is  as  though  two  incomplete  and 
contrary  individuals  were  grafted  on  a 
common  trunk.  The  same  is  true  of 
those  who  are  subject  to  irresistible  im- 
pulses and  who  declare  that  an  external 
force  constrains  them  to  act  in  spite  of 
themselves.  We  may  cite  also  those 
transformations  of  character  which  are 
accompanied  by  cutaneous  anaesthesia. 
One  of  the  most  curious  instances  of  this 
was  observed  by  Renaudin :  A  young  man 
whose  conduct  had  always  been  exem- 
plary, suddenly  gave  way  to  evil  tenden- 
cies. His  mental  state  gave  no  clear  evi- 
dence of  alienation,  but  it  was  noticed 
that  the  whole  surface  of  his  body 
had  become  absolutely  insensible.  The 
cutaneous  anaesthesia  was  intermittent. 
"  When  it  ceased,  the  young  man's  dispo- 


*  Griesinger,  Maladies  Mentales,  p.  53.  See  a 
good  essay  by  Paulhan  on  Les  Variations  de  la 
Personnalite"  a  f  Etat  Normal  (Rev.  Philos.,  June, 
1882). 


sition  was  quite  different;  he  was  now 
docile,  affectionate,  fully  conscious  of  his 
painful  situation  :  when  it  returned,  im- 
mediately his  evil  inclinations  controlled 
him,  and  these,  as  we  found  out,  might  go 
even  so  far  as  to  incite  him  to  homicide.1' 

Inevitably  we  come  back  in  every  case 
to  the  organism.  But  this  excursus 
through  diverse  fields  of  observation, 
however  monotonous  it  may  be,  exhibits 
to  us  the  variations  of  personality  in  all 
its  aspects.  Since  no  two  cases  are  iden- 
tical, each  one  offers  a  special  decompo- 
sition of  the  Me.  The  cases  last  cited 
show  us  a  transformation  of  character 
without  lesion  to  the  memory.  As  we 
proceed  with  our  review  of  the  facts,  one 
conclusion  will  more  and  more  impress 
itself  upon  our  minds,  viz. ,  that  personal- 
ity results  from  two  fundamental  factors 
— the  bodily  constitution  with  its  tenden- 
cies and  feelings,  and  the  memory. 

If  (as  in  the  cases  so  far  considered) 
only  the  first  of  these  factors  is  modified, 
the  result  is  a  momentary  dissociation 
followed  by  a  partial  change  of  the  Me. 
If  the  modification  is  so  profound  that 
the  organic  bases  of  memory  suffer  a  kind 
of  paralysis,  and  become  incapable  of  be- 
ing revived,  then  the  disintegration  of  the 
Me  is  complete  :  there  is  no  longer  a  past, 
and  there  is  a  different  present.  Then  a 
new  Me  is  formed,  and  usually  it  knows 
nothing  of  the  former  Me.  The  cases  of 
this  kind  are  so  well  known  that  I  will 
simply  mention  them,  viz.,  the  case  of  the 
American  lady  described  by  Macnish, 
that  of  Felida,  described  by  Dr.  Azam, 
and  those  recorded  by  Dufay.f  Just  be- 
cause they  involve  the  entire  personality, 
these  cases  come  under  no  specific  head- 
ing, and  we  have  no  reason  for  mention- 
ing them  here  rather  than  anywhere  else, 
except  that  we  wish  to  remark  that  the  tran- 
sition from  one  personality  to  another  is 
always  accompanied  by  a  change  of  the 
character,  associated  no  doubt  with  the 
unknown  organic  change  which  dominates 
the  whole  situation.  This  change  is 
very  clearly  pointed  out  by  Dr.  Azam : 
his  patient  (Fdlida)  is  at  one  period 
gloomy,  cold,  reserved  ;  in  the  other  pe- 
riod, gay,  sprightly,  cheerful,  full  of  life, 
even  boisterous.  The  change  is  greater 
still  in  the  following  case,  which  I  give  in 


t  For  a  full  account  of  the  observations,  see 
Taine,  De  f  Intelligence,  vol.  I.  p.  165  ;  Azam, 
Revue  Scient.,  20  May,  1876,  18  Sept.,  1877,  10  Nov. 
1879  ;  Dufay,  ibidem,  15  July,  1876.  As  regards  the 
part  played  by  memory  in  pathological  cases,  see 
Diseases  of  Memory  (HuMBOLDT  LIBRARY  No  46), 
page  1 6  et  seq. 


26 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


some  detail  because  it  is  recent  and  little 
known.* 

The  subject,  a  youth  of  seventeen  years, 
V.  L. — had  an  attack  of  hystero-epilepsy 
and  quite  lost  all  recollection  of  one  year 
of  his  life.  His  character  underwent  a 
total  change. 

Born  of  "  an  unmarried  vagabond  girl 
and  an  unknown  father,  as  soon  as  he 
was  able  to  walk  he  began  straying  about 
the  streets  and  begging.  Later  he  be- 
came a  thief,  and  was  arrested  and  sent 
to  the  St.  Urbain  penal  colony,  where  he 
worked  as  a  farm-hand."  One  day  while 
employed  in  the  vineyard  he  grasped  in 
his  hand  a  snake  concealed  in  a  bundle  of 
vine-cuttings.  His  fright  was  extreme, 
and  on  his  return  to  the  colony  in  the 
evening  he  lost  consciousness.  This  fit 
returned  again  and  again  ;  his  legs  grew 
weak  ;  at  last  came  paralysis  of  his  lower 
limbs,  his  intelligence  remaining  intact. 
He  was  now  transferred  to  the  Bonneval 
Asylum.  There  the  physician  reported  of 
him  that  he  had  "  a  kindly,  sympathetic 
expression" ;  that  he  was  "  of  a  mild  dis- 
position, and  grateful  for  the  care  be- 
stowed upon  him.  He  would  tell  the 
story  of  his  life  with  fullest  details,  even 
his  thefts,  of  which  he  was  ashamed.  He 
laid  the  blame  to  his  homelessness  and 
to  the  influence  of  his  companions,  who 
led  him  into  evil.  He  regretted  the  past, 
and  declared  that  in  the  future  he  would 
lead  a  better  life."  It  was  decided  to  tit 
him  for  some  occupation  compatible  with 
his  infirmity.  He  learned  to  read,  also 
to  write  a  little.  He  was  taken  every 
morning  to  the  tailor's  shop,  and  being 
placed  upon  a  table,  assumed  quite  nat- 
urally the  tailor's  posture,  his  legs  being 
paralyzed  and  greatly  atrophied  and  con- 
tracted. At  the  end  of  two  months  he 
could  sew  very  well,  and  was  a  diligent 
worker." 

He  had  now  an  attack  of  hystero-epi- 
lepsy which  continued  for  fifty  hours,  be- 
ing succeeded  by  a  quiet  sleep.  Then 
his  former  personality  came  back. 

"  On  awaking,  V —  wanted  to  get  up.  He 
asked  for  his  clothes,  and  succeeded  in  put- 
ting them  on,  though  awkwardly ;  then  he 
took  a  few  steps  about  the  room.  The  par- 
aplegia had  disappeared.  His  gait  was  un- 
steady and  his  legs  could  not  sustain  the 
weight  of  his  body,  but  that  was  due  to  the 
atrophied  state  of  the  muscles.  When  his 
clothes  were  on,  he  wanted  to  go  out  to 
work  on  the  farm  with  his  comrades.  We 
saw  at  once  that  the  lad  thought  he  was  still 


*  The   case   is  reported  by  Dr.  Camuset  in  the 
Annales  Mtdico-psychologiques,  Jan.,  1882. 


at  St.  Urbain's,  and  that  he  wanted  to  re* 
sume  his  habitual  occupations.  He  had  in. 
fact  no  recollection  of  his  attack :  did  -not  re- 
cognize any  one  here — neither  the  doctor  and 
nurses,  nor  his  fellow-patients.  He  refused 
to  believe  that  he  had  been  paralyzed,  say- 
ing that  we  were  making  sport  of  him.  We 
attributed  this  to  a  momentary  vesania,  not 
an  unusual  sequel  of  strong  hysteric  seizures. 
But  time  went  on,  and  still  memory  did  not 
return.  V —  remembered  distinctly  his  hav- 
ing been  sent  to  St.  Urbain's,  that  'the  other 
day '  he  was  frightened  by  a  snake,  but  from, 
that  point  forward  all  was  blank.  He  re- 
membered nothing  :  he  had  no  consciousness 
even  of  the  lapse  of  time. 

"  Naturally  we  suspected  that  he  was 
feigning,  as  hysterical  subjects  are  wont  to 
do,  and  we  tried  in  every  way  to  make  him 
contradict  himself,  but  in  vain.  Thus,  we  had 
him  taken  to  the  tailor's  shop  without  letting, 
him  know  where  he  was  going.  We  walked 
alongside  of  him,  careful  not  to  give  him  a 
hint  as  to  what  direction  he  should  take^ 
V —  did  not  know  where  he  was  going.  Ar- 
rived at  the  shop,  he  gave  no  sign  of  know- 
ing where  he  was,  and  declared  he  came 
there  now  the  first  time.  A  needle  was  put 
in  his  hand  and  he  was  asked  to  use  it  in 
sewing,  but  he  set  about  it  as  clumsily  as- 
any  one  does  who  attempts  for  the  first  time 
to  perform  the  task.  Garments  were  shown 
him  on  which  he  had  done  the  coarser 
stitching  while  in  the  paralytic  state.  In 
vain  :  he  recalled  nothing  of  all  this.  After  a. 
month  of  experiments,  observations,  and 
tests  of  every  kind,  we  were  convinced  that 
V —  remembered  nothing." 

One  of  the  most  interesting  points  of 
this  case  is  the  modification  of  the  pa- 
tient's character — a  reversion  to  his  prior 
life  and  hereditary  antecedents. 

"  He  is  no  more  the  same  person  :  he  is 
now  quarrelsome,  and  an  inordinate  eater. 
He  makes  rude  answers.  He  cared  not 
for  wine  and  usually  gave  his  share  of  wine 
to  his  comrades :  now  he  steals  theirs. 
When  some  one  tells  him  that  once  he  used 
to  steal,  but  that  he  ought  not  to  begin 
thieving  again,  he  boldly  says  that  '  if 
he  was  a  thief,  he  has  paid  for  it,  for  they 
have  put  him  in  prison.'  He  is  employed  in 
the  garden.  One  day  he  ran  away,  taking 
with  him  some  property  and  sixty  francs  be- 
longing to  one  of  the  infirmarians.  He  was- 
captured  five  leagues  away  from  Bonneval, 
just  after  he  had  sold  his  clothes  to  purchase 
others  and  was  making  ready  to  take  the 
train  for  Paris.  The  arrest  was  not  easily 
made,  for  he  struck  and  bit  the  keepers  who 
had  come  in  pursuit  of  him.  Brought  back 
to  the  asylum,  he  became  furious,  shouting,, 
and  rolling  upon  the  ground,  so  that  he  had 
to  be  confined  in  a  cell." 


Although  we  have  not  yet  studied  the 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


anomalies  of  personality  in  all  its  forms, 
it  will  not  be  out  of  place  here  to  attempt 
a  few  partial  and  provisional  conclusions 
which  will  serve  to  lessen  the  obscurity 
of  the  subject.  I  will  confine  myself 
however  to  one  point — to  cases  of  false 
personality  consisting  essentially  of  a 
fixed  idea,  an  overweening  idea  toward 
which  converges  the  whole  group  of  con- 
cordant ideas,  all  others  being  eliminated 
and  as  it  were  annihilated :  as  when 
persons  believe  themselves  to  be  God, 
pope,  emperor,  and  speak  and  act  accord- 
ingly. The  study  of  the  intellectual  con- 
ditions of  personality  will  furnish  us 
with  many  an  instance  of  this — hypno- 
tized subjects,  for  example,  who  assume 
a  personality  or  enact  a  role  at  the  oper- 
ator's will ;  but  the  instances  we  are  al- 
ready familiar  with  warrant  a  question  as 
to  what  we  are  to  learn  from  them. 

At  first  view,  these  cases  are  quite 
simple  as  regards  the  mechanism  of  their 
formation.  The  prime  origin  is  ob- 
scure ;  why  is  this  particular  idea  pro- 
duced and  not  some  other  ?  Commonly 
we  know  nothing  whatever  about  it,  but 
once  the  morbid  conception  produced,  it 
grows  and  grows,  till  at  last  it  reaches 
its  highest  point,  through  the  mere  au- 
tomatism of  association  of  ideas.  Hence 
it  is  not  my  intention  to  dwell  upon  this 
point,  but  to  show  that  these  pathologi- 
cal cases  explain  for  us  an  illusion  into 
which  psychology  has  almost  always 
fallen  when  it  has  based  itself  simply  up- 
on internal  observation — the  illusion  of 
substituting  for  the  real  Me  a  factitious 
Me  that  is  far  simpler. 

In  order  to  comprehend  the  real,  con- 
crete personality  and  not  an  abstraction 
substituted  in  its  room,  what  we  must  do 
is,  not  to  shut  ourselves  up  in  our  con- 
sciousness and,  closing  our  eyes,  proceed 
to  question  it :  rather  must  we  open  our 
eyes  and  observe.  The  child,  the  peas- 
ant, the  laborer,  the  millions  of  people 
who  walk  the  streets  or  who  work  in  the 
fields ;  who  have  never  heard  of  Fichte 
or  Maine  de  Biran  ;  who  have  never  read 
a  dissertation  on  the  Me  and  the  non-Me, 
nor  a  single  line  on  psychology — have 
each  one  his  own  definite  personality, 
and  this  personality  they  instinctively  af- 
firm. Every  moment  ever  since  that  for- 
gotten epoch  when  their  Me  was  first 
constituted,  /.  e.,  when  it  was  formed  as 
a  coherent  group  amid  the  occurrences 
that  assail  it,  that  group  has  maintained 
itself  steadily,  steadily  undergoing  modi- 
fication. In  great  part  it  is  made  up  of 
states  and  acts  nearly  automatic  which 


in  each  individual  constitute  the  bodily- 
sense  (or  coenassthesis)  and  the  routine 
of  life  ;  which  serve  as  support  to  all  the 
rest,  but  whose  every  alteration,  how 
brief  or  partial  soever,  is  immediately- 
felt.  In  great  part  too  it  is  made  up  of 
a  complex  of  sensations,  images,  ideas, 
representing  the  habitual  environment 
within  which  the  individual  lives  and 
moves,  with  the  recollections  thereto  at- 
tached. All  this  represents  organized 
states,  firmly  linked  together,  mutually- 
calling  each  other  forth,  systemized. 
The  fact  we  actually  are  cognizant  of, 
though  we  may  not  inquire  into  the 
cause.  Whatever  is  new,  unwonted  ;  all 
changes  in  the  state  of  the  body  or  of  its 
environment,  are  unhesitatingly  adopt- 
ed, classed  by  an  instinctive  act  as  form- 
ing part  of  the  personality  or  as  being 
external  to  it.  Not  by  a  definite  and  ex- 
plicit judgment  is  this  operation  perform- 
ed each  moment,  but  by  an  uncon- 
scious logic  far  more  profound  than  the 
logic  of  the  schools.  Had  we  to  charac- 
terize with  one  word  this  natural,  spon- 
taneous, real,  form  of  personality  I 
should  call  it  an  habitude,  nor  can  it 
be  anything  else,  since,  as  we  maintain,, 
it  is  but  the  expression  of  an  organism. 
Let  the  reader,  instead  of  observing  him- 
self, proceed  objectively  :  that  is,  let  him 
observe  and  interpret  with  the  aid  of  the 
data  of  consciousness  the  state  of  those 
who  have  never  reflected  upon  their  per- 
sonality, and  he  will  see  that  the  forego- 
ing thesis  is  true,  and  that  real  personal- 
ity affirms  itself  not  by  reflection  but  by 
acts. 

Let  us  now  consider  factitious  or  arti- 
ficial personality.  When  the  psycholo- 
gist essays  to  comprehend  himself,  as  he 
says,  by  inward  observation,  he  attempts 
the  impossible.  When  he  sets  about  the 
task,  either  he  restricts  himself  to  the- 
present,  and  that  helps  him  little  :  or,  let- 
ting his  reflection  extend  over  the  past, 
he  affirms  himself  to  be  the  same  that  he 
was  a  year  or  ten  years  ago  ;  he  does  but 
express  learnedly  and  laboredly  what  any 
peasant  knows  as  well  as  himself.  By 
inner  observation  he  can  grasp  only  tran- 
sitory phenomena,  and  so  far  as  I  know 
answer  has  never  been  made  to  these 
just  observations  of  Hume : 

"As  for  me,  whenever  I  contemplate  what  is 
inmost  in  what  I  call  my  own  self,  I  always 
come  in  contact  with  such  or  such  special 
perception  as  of  cold,  heat,  light  or  shadow,, 
love  or  hate,  pleasure  or  pain.  I  never  come 
unawares  upon  my  mind  existing  in  a  state 
void  of  perceptions :  I  never  observe  aught 


28 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


save  perception.  ...  If  any  one,  after  seri- 
ous reflection  and  without  prejudices,  thinks 
he  has  any  other  idea  of  himself,  I  confess  that 
I  can  reason  no  longer  with  him.  The  best  I 
can  say  for  him  is  that  perhaps  he  is  right  no 
less  than  I,  and  that  on  this  point  our  na- 
tures are  essentially  different.  It  is  possible 
that  he  may  perceive  something  simple  and 
permanent  which  he  calls  himself,  but  as  for 
me  I  am  quite  sure  I  possess  no  such  prin- 

•  ciple."     ilume,  Works,  vol.  i,  p.  321. 

Since  Hume's  day  some  one  has  said  : 
"  Through  the  sense  of  effort  and  of  resist- 
ance we  feel  that  we  cause  "  {par  I'effort 
et  la  resistance,  nous  nous  sentons  cause]. 
True  ;  and  pretty  nearly  all  schools  agree 
that  in  this  way  the  Me  distinguishes  it- 
self from  the  non-Me :  but  the  sense  of 
-effort  nevertheless  is  still  simply  a  state 
•of  consciousness — the  sense  of  the  mus 

•  cular  energy  spent  to  produce  a  given 
act. 

To  seek  to  grasp  by  analysis  a  syn- 
thetic whole  as  personality  is,  or  by  an  in- 
tuition of  consciousness  lasting  at  most  a 
few  seconds  to  seize  a  complex  like  the 
Me,  were  to  attempt  the  solution  of  a 
problem  whose  data  are  mutually  con- 
tradictory. The  psychologists  have  gone 
to  work  differently.  They  have  con- 
sidered states  of  consciousness  as  ac- 
cessories, and  the  tie  that  connects  them 
as  the  essential  thing :  and  it  is  this  mys- 
terious underlying  something  that,  under 
"the  name  of  unity,  identity,  or  continuity, 
becomes  the  true  Me.  Nevertheless 
plainly  we  have  here  only  an  abstraction, 
or  more  precisely  a  schema.  For  the  real 
personality  has  been  substituted  the  idea 
of  personality — a  very  different  thing. 
This  idea  of  personality  is  like  all  general 
terms  formed  in  the  same  way,  as  sensi- 
bility, will,  etc.;  but  it  is  no  more  like  the 
real  personality  than  the  plan  of  a  city  is 
like  the  city  itself.  And  as  in  the  cases 
of  aberration  of  personality  that  have  led 
to  the  present  remarks,  one  idea  has 
taken  the  place  of  a  complex,  forming  an 
imaginary  and  a  diminished  personality,  so 
by  the  psychologist  the  schema  of  person- 
ality is  substituted  for  the  concrete  per- 
sonality, and  it  is  upon  this  beggarly 
framework  that  he  rests  all  his  reasoning, 
inductions,  deductions  and  dogmatizings. 
Of  course  this  comparison  is  made  on  the 
condition  of  mutatis  mutandis  and  with 
many  restrictions,  which  the  reader  will 
find  out  for  himself. 

In  short,  for  one  to  reflect  on  his  Me 
is  to  take  an  artificial  position  which 
changes  its  nature — to  substitute  an  ab- 
stract representation  for  a  reality.  The 


true  Me  is  that  which  feels,  thinks,  acts, 
without  exhibiting  itself,  so  to  speak,  to 
itself  upon  a  stage.  For  the  Me  is  in'  its 
nature  and  by  its  definition  a  subject ; 
and  to  become  an  object  it  must  undergo 
a  reduction,  an  adaptation  to  the  mind's 
optical  conditions,  and  that  transforms  it, 
mutilates  it. 

Till  now  we  have  considered  the  ques- 
tion only  on  its  negative  side.  To  what 
positive  hypothesis  as  to  the  nature  of 
personality  are  we  led  by  the  observation 
of  morbid  cases  ?  First  let  us  lay  aside 
the  hypothesis  of  a  transcendental  entity 
— an  hypothesis  that  cannot  be  recon- 
ciled with  pathology,  and  which  explains 
nothing. 

Let  us  put  aside  also  the  hypothesis 
which  makes  of  the  Me  "  a  bundle  of  sen- 
sations "  or  of  states  of  consciousness,  as 
many  have  held  it  to  be,  following  Hume. 
So  to  think  is  to  take  appearances  for 
reality,  a  group  of  signs  for  a  thing,  or 
more  exactly,  to  take  effects  for  their 
cause.  Besides,  if,  as  we  hold,  conscious- 
ness is  only  an  indicative  phenomenon,  it 
cannot  be  a  constitutive  state. 

We  have  to  penetrate  deeper,  to  that 
consensus  of  the  organism  of  which  the 
conscious  Me  is  but  the  psychological  ex- 
pression. Has  this  hypothesis  any  firmer 
ground  than  the  other  two  ?  Both  ob- 
jectively and  subjectively  considered,  the 
characteristic  trait  of  personality  is  that 
continuity  in  time,  that  permanence  which 
is  called  identity.  This  has  been  denied 
of  the  organism,  on  grounds  so  well 
known  that  there  is  no  need  to  state 
them  :  but  it  is  strange  that  those  (who 
refuse  to  concede  continuity,  identity,  to 
the  organism  should  fail  to  see  that  all 
the  arguments  for  a  transcendental  prin- 
ciple hold  good  also  for  the  organism, 
and  that  all  the  arguments  that  can  be 
brought  against  the  latter  have  the  same 
force  against  the  former.  That  every 
higher  organism  is  one  in  its  complexity 
is  an  observation  at  least  as  old  as  the 
Hippocratic  writings  ,  and  since  Bichat's 
time  no  one  attributes  this  unity  to  a 
mysterious  vital  principle ;  certain  writers 
however  make  a  great  noise  about  the 
constant  molecular  renovation  which  con- 
stitutes life,  and  ask,  Where  is  the  iden- 
tity ?  But  as  a  fact  every  one  believes  in 
this  identity  of  the  organism.  Identity 
is  not  immobility.  If,  as  some  savants 
hold,  life  has  its  seat  not  so  much  in  the 
chemical  substance  of  the  protoplasm, 
as  in  the  motions  of  the  particles,  then  it 
is  a  "  combination  of  motions,"  or  a 
"  form  of  motion,"  and  this  constant 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


molecular  renovation  must  itself  be  sub- 
ordinate to  more  recondite  conditions. 
However  that  may  be,  every  unbiased 
mind  will  admit  that  the  organism  pos- 
sesses identity.  What  hypothesis  then 
could  be  more  simple  or  more  natural 
than  to  consider  the  conscious  identity  as 
the  inward  manifestation  of  the  external 
identity  subsisting  in  the  organism  ? 

On  this  physical  basis  of  the  organism 
rests  also,  according  to  our  thesis,  what 
we  call  the  unity  of  the  Me,  i.e.,  the  in- 
terdependence which  links  together  the 
states  of  consciousness.  The  unity  of  the 
Me  is  the  unity  of  a  complexus,  and  only 
by  a  metaphysical  illusion  do  we  accord 
to  it  the  ideal  unity  of  the  mathematical 
point.  It  consists  not  in  the  act  of  a  sup- 
posedly simple  "  essence,"  but  in  a  co- 
ordination of  the  nerve  centers,  which 
themselves  represent  a  coordination  of 
the  functions  of  the  organism.  It  is  true 
that  here  we  have  to  do  with  hypotheses, 
but  at  least  they  have  no  supernatural 
character. 

Take  man  in  the  foetal  state,  before 
the  beginning  of  psychic  life :  leave  out 
all  the  hereditary  dispositions  already  in 
any  way  impressed  upon  him,  which  will 
later  come  into  play.  At  some  undefined 
period,  at  the  latest  in  the  last  weeks  of 
the  foetal  life,  some  sort  of  body  sense 
(ccenaesthesis)  must  come  into  existence 
— a  vague  feeling  of  well-being  or  of  dis- 
comfort. However  confused  this  may 
be  supposed  to  be,  it  implies  certain  mod- 
ifications in  the  nerve  centers,  as  far 
as  their  rudimentary  state  may  allow. 
When,  later,  sensations  (objective  or  not) 
of  external  causation  are  added  to  these 
simple  vital,  organic,  sensations,  they 
too  necessarily  produce  a  modification  in 
the  nerve  centers.  But  they  are  not  in- 
scribed on  a  tabula  rasa  ;  the  warp  of 
the  psychic  life  is  already  laid,  and  this 
warp  is  general  sensibility,  the  feeling  of 
life,  which,  even  though  it  be  very  vague, 
absolutely  constitues,  at  this  period  of 
life,  almost  the  total  sum  of  conscious- 
ness. Thus  we  have  a  glimpse  of  the 
origin  of  the  connection  between  states 
of  consciousness.  The  first  sensation — 
supposing  one  to  exist  in  the  isolated 
state — does  not  come  like  an  aerolite  in 
a  desert :  at  its  entrance  even  it  is  con- 
nected with  others — with  the  states 
which  constitute  the  bodily  sense,  and 
which  are  simply  the  psychic  expression 
of  the  organism.  In  terms  of  physiology, 
this  means  that  the  modifications  of  the 
nervous  system  representing  materially 
sensations  and  the  desires  that  arise  out 


of  them  (these  being  the  first  elements- 
of  the  higher  psychic  life)  are  added  to- 
prior  modifications  which  are  the  material 
representatives  of  the  vital  and  organic 
sensations ;  and  that  thereby  relations 
are  established  between  these  nervous 
elements  ;  so  that  from  the  first  the  com- 
plex unity  of  the  Me  has  its  conditions  of 
existence,  and  these  it  finds  in  that  gen- 
eral consciousness  of  the  organism  so 
much  overlooked,  though  it  is  neverthe- 
ess  the  main  support  of  all  the  rest.  In 
short,  all  depends  upon  the  unity  of  the 
organism :  and  when  the  psychic  life, 
laving  itself  passed  the  embryonic  stage,, 
nas  taken  shape,  the  mind  may  be  com- 
pared to  a  rich  piece  of  tapestry  where 
:he  warp  has  completely  disappeared, 
Deing  in  some  instances  lightly  overlaid 
with  figures,  in  others  being  embroidered 
in  high  relief ;  the  psychologist  who  em- 
ploys inner  observation  only,  sees  but  the 
figures  and  the  embroidered  designs,  and 
loses  himself  in  a  maze  of  conjecture  as 
to  what  may  underlie  them ;  if  he  were 
but  to  change  his  position  or  to  look  at 
the  reverse  side,  he  would  save  himself 
many  a  useless  induction,  and  would  leant 
more. 


The  same  thesis  might  be  discussed 
under  the  form  of  a  criticism  of  Hume. 
The  Me  is  not,  as  Hume  held,  a  mere 
bundle  of  perceptions.  Without  appeal- 
ing to  psychology,  but  confining  one's  self 
to  simple  ideological  analysis,  one  ob- 
serves here  the  omission  of  one  important 
point,  viz.,  the  relations  between  the  pri- 
mordial states.  Relation  is  an  element 
vague  in  its  nature,  and  hard  to  deter- 
mine, since  it  does  not  exist  by  itself. 
Still,  it  is  something  more  and  something 
else  than  the  two  states  which  limit  it. 
In  Herbert  Spencer's  Principles  of  Psy- 
chology is  found  a  searching  study  (too- 
little  noticed)  of  the  elements  of  psychic 
life,  with  hypotheses  as  to  their  material 
conditions.  Quite  recently  Mr.  W. 
James  has  taken  the  question  up  again.* 
He  compares  the  course  of  our  con- 
sciousness with  its  uneven  flow  to  the 
progress  of  a  bird  that  alternately  flies 
and  perches.  The  resting-places  are  oc- 
cupied by  relatively  stable  sensations 
and  images :  the  spaces  passed  over  in 
flight  are  represented  by  thoughts  of  re- 
lations between  the  points  of  rest :  the 
latter — the  "transitive  portions"  are 
nearly  always  forgotten.  It  seems  to  me 


*  See  Mind,  Jan.,  1884,  p.  i  et  seq. 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


that  this  is  our  thesis  in  another  form — 
the  continuity  of  the  psychic  phenomena 
by  reason  of  a  deep,  hidden  substratum, 
to  be  sought  in  the  organism.  In  truth, 
that  were  a  precarious  sort  of  personality 
which  should  have  no  other  ground,  but 
consciousness,  and  this  hypothesis  is 
found  wanting  when  tested  by  the  sim- 
plest facts  :  as  for  instance  when  an  ex- 
planation is  asked  of  the  fact  that  after  a 
.sound  sleep  of  six  or  eight  hours  I  unhes- 
itatingly declare  my  identity.  To  refer 
the  essence  of  our  personality  to  a  mode 
of  existence  (consciousness)  that  disap- 
pears at  least  during  one-third  of  our 
life,  is  to  offer  a  curious  solution. 

We  therefore  maintain,  as  we  have 
elsewhere  done  with  regard  to  memory, 
that  individuality,  in  itself  and  such  as  it 
•exists  actually  in  the  nature  of  things,  is 
not  to  be  confounded  with  individuality 
as  it  exists  for  itself  in  virtue  of  con- 
sciousness (personality).  The  organic 
memory  is  the  basis  of  all  the  highest 
•forms  of  memory,  these  being  only  its 
more  perfect  phases.  The  organic  irtfli- 
-viduality  is  the  basis  of  all  the  highest 
forms  of  personality,  which  are  only  its 
development.  Of  personality,  as  of  mem- 
•ory,  1  hold  that  it  is  completed,  perfected, 
by  consciousness,  not  constituted  by  con- 
.sciousness. 

Although,  in  order  to  keep  these  re- 
marks within  due  limits,  I  have  carefully 
abstained  from  all  digression,  from  criti- 
cism of  opposite  doctrines,  and  from  ex- 
position of  points  of  detail,  I  must,  in 
passing,  point  out  one  question  which 
.suggests  itself  naturally:  Does  the  con- 
.sciousness  of  our  personal  identity  rest 
upon  memory,  or  vice  versa  ?  One  per- 
son will  say,  without  memory  I  should  be 
but  a  present  existence  incessantly  re- 
newed, and  that  does  away  with  all  pos- 
sibility, however  faint,  of  identity.  An- 
other will  say,  without  a  feeling  of  iden- 
tity binding  them  together  and  impressing 
a  character  upon  them,  my  recollections 
would  not  be  mine :  they  would  be  for- 
eign to  me.  Is  it  then  memory  which 
produces  the  sense  of  identity,  or  is  it  the 
sense  of  identity  which  produces  memory  ? 
Neither !  These  are  both  effects,  whose 
•cause  is  to  be  sought  in  the  organism 
for  on  the  one  hand  its  (the  organism's) 
•objective  identity  is  expressed  in  that  sub- 
jective state  which  we  call  the  sense  oi 
personal  identity ;  and  on  the  other  hand, 
it  is  here  (/>.  in  the  organism)  that  are 
enregistered  the  organic  conditions  of 
our  recollections,  and  here  too  is  found 
ahe  basis  of  our  conscious  memory.  The 


'eeling  of  personal  identity,  as  well  as 
memory  in  the  psychological  sense,  are 
effects  whereof  the  one  cannot  be  the 
cause  of  the  other.  Their  common  ori- 
gin is  in  the  organism;  where  identity  and 
organic  enregistration  (i.e.  memory)  are 
one.  Here  we  touch  one  of  those  mal- 
posited-questions  which  abound  in  the 
hypothesis  of  an  entity-consciousness. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

INTELLECTIVE  DISTURBANCE. 

IN  certain  morbid  states  the  traditional 
five  senses  are  subject  to  serious  pertur- 
bations, their  functions  becoming  per- 
verted or  distorted.  Do  these  "paraes- 
thesias  "  and  "  dysasthesias  "  play  any 
part  in  changes  of  personality  ?  Before 
we  examine  this  point,  we  have  first  to 
ask,  what  happens  when  one  or  more  of 
the  senses  are  suppressed  ?  Is  the  per- 
sonality then  altered,  maimed,  or  trans- 
formed ?  Experience  seems  to  give  an- 
swer in  the  negative. 

Total  loss  of  any  sense  may  be  either 
acquired  or  congenital.  We  will  first  con- 
sider the  former  case.  We  will  set  aside 
the  two  secondary  senses,  taste  and  smell, 
as  well  as  touch  in  its  several  forms,  allied 
as  it  is  to  the  general  sensibility ;  and  we 
will  consider  only  hearing  and  sight.  In- 
stances of  acquired  blindness  and  deaf- 
ness are  not  rare  :  quite  frequently  they 
produce  modifications  of  character,  but 
such  changes  are  not  radical,  and  the  in- 
dividual remains  the  same.  Congenital 
blindness  and  congenital  deaf-muteness 
affect  the  personality  more  profoundly. 
Those  who  are  deaf-mutes  from  birth,  if 
they  have  to  depend  on  their  own  re- 
sources and  are  not  instructed  in  the  deaf- 
mute  language,  remain  in  a  state  of  men- 
tal inferiority.  This  has  sometimes  been 
exaggerated,*  but  it  is  nevertheless  incon- 
testable, and  it  is  due  to  causes  so  often 
explained  that  there  is  no  need  to  recall 
them  here.  The  conscious  personality 
falls  below  the  normal  stage  :  but  in  this 
case  we  have  an  arrest  of  development 
rather  than  an  alteration  of  personality  in 
the  strict  sense  of  the  term. 

As  for  those  born  blind,  many  of  them, 
as  we  know,  are  clever  and  ingenious, 
and  there  is  no  ground  for  supposing  in 
their  case  any  diminution  or  alteration  of 


*  See  on  this  point  the  facts  reported  by  Kuss- 
maul,  Die  Stbrungen  der  Sprache,  VII.  p.  16  et  seq* 


THE  DISEASES   OF  PERSONALITY. 


personality.  However  odd,  to  our  minds, 
their  conception  of  the  visible  world, 
which  they  image  to  themselves  accord- 
ing to  hearsay  only,  that  does  not  seri- 
ously affect  either  the  nature  of  their  per- 
sonality or  the  idea  they  have  of  it. 

Take  the  case  of  Laura  Bridgman — the 
most  noted  case  of  sense  privation  on  rec- 
ord, a  case  minutely  studied,  and  fully 
detailed.*  Here  we  see  a  woman  bereft 
at  the  age  of  two  years  of  sight  and  hear- 
ing, almost  entirely  deprived  of  the  senses 
of  smell  and  taste,  and  possessing  only 
the  sense  of  touch.  Doubtless  very  great 
•credit  is  due  to  the  painstaking  and  intel- 
ligent training  which  has  fashioned  her 
mind:  nevertheless  her  instructors  could 
not  endow  her  with  new  senses,  and  her 
one  sense  of  touch  had  to  suffice  for  all 
purposes.  Now  Laura  Bridgman  is  seen 
to  possess  an  individuality  of  her  own, 
and  a  clearly  marked  character,  being  of 
a  kindly  disposition,  almost  invariably 
good-humored,  untiring  in  her  efforts 
toward  self-instruction '.  in  short,  she  is  a 
person. 

Disregarding  the  innumerable  details 
involved  in  the  foregoing  cases,  we  may 
safely  conclude  that  congenital  or  ac- 
quired privation  of  one  or  more  of  the 
senses  involves  no  morbid  state  of  the 
personality.  In  the  less  favorable  cases 
there  is  a  relative  arrest  of  development, 
which  is  remedied  by  education. 

For  those  who  hold  the  Me  to  be  an 
•exceedingly  complex  composite — and  such 
do  we  hold  it  to  be — every  change,  addi- 
tion, or  subtraction,  in  its  constituent  ele- 
ments affects  it  more  or  less.  But  the  aim 
of  our  analysis  is  precisely  to  distinguish, 
•  in  these  elements,  what  is  essential  from 
what  is  accessory.  What  the  external 
senses  (touch  excepted)  bring  in  is  not  an 
essential  factor.  The  senses  determine 
and  circumscribe  the  personality ;  they  do 
not  constitute  it.  Were  it  not  rash  to  trust 
to  pure  logic  in  questions  of  observation 
and  experience,  this  conclusion  might  be 
deduced  a  priori.  Sight  and  hearing  are 
pre-eminently  objective  :  they  reveal  to 
us  what  is  without,  not  what  is  within. 
As  for  touch,  a  complex  sense  which 
many  physiologists  resolve  into  three  or 
four  senses,  this,  in  so  far  as  it  makes  us 
acquainted  ,with  the  properties  of  the 
outer  world — in  so  far  as  it  is  an  eye  for 
the  blind — belongs  in  one  group  with 
sight  and  hearing  ;  otherwise,  it  is  only 


*  See  Mary  Swift  Lamson,  Life  and  Education 
^f  Laura  Deiuey  Bridgman^  the  Dtaf^  Dumb,  and 
JSlind  Girl. 


one  form  of  the  sense  we  have  of  our  own 
body. 

It  may  seem  strange  to  say  that  paraes- 
thesia  and  dysaesthesia,  of  which  we  are 
now  to  treat,  /.  £.,  simple  sensorial  per- 
turbations or  alterations,  disorganize  the 
Me.  Yet  observation  proves  this,  and 
reflection  explains  it.  This  work  of  de- 
struction comes  not  from  them  alone  ; 
they  are  but  an  external  episode  of  an  in- 
ternal disorder  that  lies  deeper,  and  which 
affects  the  bodily  sense  (or  ccenaesthesis). 
These  sensorial  disturbances  are  causes 
assistant  rather  than  efficient.  This  the 
facts  will  show. 

Alterations  of  personality  with  sensorial 
disturbances,  but  without  noteworthy 
hallucinations,  without  loss  of  judgment, 
are  found  in  certain  morbid  states.  We 
select  as  a  type  the  neurosis  studied  by 
Krishaber  under  the  title  "  cerebro-card- 
iac  neuropathy. "  It  matters  little  whether 
or  no  this  group  of  symptoms  deserves  to 
be  regarded  as  a  distinct  pathological 
unit  :  that  is  a  question  for  physicians,  t 
Our  investigation  is  not  concerned  with 
it. 

First  let  us  consider  briefly  the  physio- 
logical disturbances  whose  immediate  ef- 
fect is  to  produce  a  change  in  the  ccenaes- 
thesis, or  bodily  sense.  First,  there  are 
disorders  of  the  circulation,  consisting 
principally  in  an  extreme  irritability  of  the 
vascular  system,  due  probably  to  excita- 
tion of  the  central  nervous  system,  whence 
results  contraction  of  the  small  vessels, 
ischaemia  in  certain  regions,  insufficient 
nutrition,  and  exhaustion.  Then  there 
is  disordered  locomotion,  dizziness,  a  con- 
stant feeling  of  vertigo,  unsteady  gait  as 
from  intoxication,  hesitating  step,  invol- 
untary impulse  to  walk  "  as  though  moved 
by  a  spring." 

Passing  from  interior  to  exterior,  we 
find  the  sense  of  touch,  which  forms 
the  transition  from  general  sensibility  to 
the  special  senses.  Some  subjects  have 
a  feeling  as  if  they  no  longer  weighed 
anything,  or  of  being  very  light.  Many 
lose  all  precise  notion  of  resistance,  and 
cannot  by  touch  alone  determine  the 
shapes  of  objects.  They  believe  them- 
selves to  be  "  apart  from  the  universe  ": 
their  body,  as  it  were,  surrounded  by  in- 
sulating media  interposed  between  it  and 
the  outer  world. 

"  There  was  formed,"  says  one  who  was  so 
affected,  "  a  sort  of  murky  atmosphere  round 


t  Krishaber,  De  la  Neuropathie  CMbro-Cardi- 
|  ague.    Paris,  Masson,  1873. 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


about  my  person  ;  nevertheless,  I  saw  per- 
fectly well  that  it  was  a  clear  day.  The  word 
'  murky '  does  not  express  my  thought  ex- 
actly :  in  German  I  should  call  it  '  dumpf,' 
which  means  heavy,  thick,  dull.  This  sensa- 
tion was  not  only  visual,  but  cutaneous.  The 
'  thick '  atmosphere  enveloped  me  ;  I  saw  it, 
felt  it ;  it  was  as  if  I  were  surrounded  by  a 
bad  conductor  of  some  kind  which  insulated 
me  from  the  outer  world.  I  cannot  tell  you 
how  impressive  this  sensation  was  :  I  felt  as 
though  I  had  been  carried  away  to  an  im- 
mense distance  from  the  world,  and  involun- 
tarily I  cried  out  aloud,  '  I  am  far  away,  far 
away.'  Still,  I  knew  very  well  that  I  was 
not  far  away,  and  I  remembered  distinctly  all 
that  had  happened  to  me  :  but  between 
the  moment  before  and  the  moment  after  my 
attack,  stood  an  interval  of  immeasurable 
duration,  a  distance  like  that  from  earth  to 
sun." 

The  sense  of  sight  is  always  affected. 
To  say  nothing  of  slight  disorders  of  vis- 
ion (photophobia,  amblyopia),  some  pa- 
tients see  all  objects  double  :  to  others, 
all  surfaces  seem  flat,  and  to  them  a  man 
looks  like  a  reliefless  silhouette.  For 
many  patients,  surrounding  objects  appear 
to  shrink  in  size,  and  to  retreat  into  im- 
measurable distance. 

The  troubles  of  the  sense  of  hearing 
are  of  a  similar  nature.  The  patient  does 
not  recognize  the  sound  of  his  own  voice  : 
it  seems  to  come  from  far  away,  or  to  be 
lost  in  space,  so  that  it  never  can  reach 
the  ears  of  those  he  is  talking  with  j  and 
their  replies  are  no  less  difficult  to  hear. 

If  we  bring  together  in  thought  all  these 
symptoms  (which  are  accompanied  by 
physical  pain,  and  by  changes  in  the 
sense  of  taste  and  of  smell)  we  find  our- 
selves in  presence  of  a  group  of  internal 
and  external  sensations  of  a  new  charac- 
ter, united  by  their  simultaneity  in  time, 
but  more  deeply  united  by  the  morbid 
state  which  is  their  common  source. 
Here  we  see  all  the  elements  of  a  new 
Me  :  sometimes  a  new  Me  is  formed.  " 
have  lost  consciousness  of  my  being  :  I 
am  no  more  myself " — such  is  the  lan- 
guage of  patients  as  reported  by  most  ob- 
servers. Some  patients  go  farther  and  at 
times  fancy  themselves  to  be  double ; 
•'  A  curious  thought  possesses  my  mind  in 
spite  of  myself  "  said  one  patient,  a  civil 
engineer ;  "  I  believe  myself  to  be  double. 
I  feel  within  me  a  Me  that  thinks  and  a 
Me  that  acts."  (Krishaber,  Obs.  6.) 

This  process  of  formation  has  been  so 
well  studied  by  Mr.  Taine,  that  I  need 
not  do  the  work  over  again. 

"  One  might  best  compare  the  state  ol 
the  patient  to  the  state  of  a  caterpillar 


which,  retaining  all  its  ideas  and  all  its 
recollections  of  the  caterpillar  state,  should 
n  an  instant  become  a  butterfly,  with  the 
senses  and  sensations  of  a  butterfly.  Be- 
tween the  old  state  and  the  new,  between 
the  first  Me  (that  of  the  caterpillar)  and 
the  second  Me  (that  of  the  butterfly;  there 
is  a  deep  cleft,  a  complete  rupture.  The 
new  sensations  find  no  anterior  series 
with  which  to  connect,  the  patient  cannot 
interpret  them,  cannot  use  them :  he 
does  not  recognize  them,  for  him  they 
are  as  unknown.  Hence  two  strange 
conclusions,  first,  '  I  am  not ' ;  the  sec- 
ond, a  little  later,  '  I  am  another.'  "  * 

It  is  difficult  for  a  sane,  well-balanced 
mind  to  conceive  of  so  extraordinary  a 
mental  state  as  this.  The  skeptical  ob- 
server who  looks  at  the  matter  from  with- 
out, does  not  accept  these  conclusions, 
but  the  patient,  who  looks  at  it  from  with- 
in, finds  them  rigorously  correct.  For 
him  this  continual  feeling  of  vertigo  and 
intoxication  is  like  a  permanent  chaos,  in 
which  the  state  of  normal  equilibrium 
and  coordination  either  cannot  exist  or 
at  least  cannot  endure. 

If  now  we  compare  with  the  other  more 
or  less  serious  forms  this  change  of  the 
personality  a  sensibus  lasts,  we  find  that 
a  new  Me  is  not  in  all  cases  formed : 
when  it  is  formed,  it  always  disappears 
with  the  sensorial  disturbances.  It  never 
supplants  entirely  the  normal  Me ;  there 
is  an  alternation  between  the  two ;  the 
elements  of  the  original  Me  retain  so 
much  cohesion  that  it  resumes  at  intervals 
the  supremacy.  Hence  the  illusion — but 
which  is  not  in  the  strict  sense  an  illusion 
for  the  patient — that  he  is  double. 

As  for  the  psychological  mechanism  by 
which  he  thinks  himself  double,  that  is 
explained  by  the  memory.  I  have  before 
endeavored  to  show  that  real  personality, 
with  its  enormous  mass  of  sub-conscious 
and  conscious  states,  presents  itself  to 
our  mind  in  an  image  or  fundamental 
tendency  which  we  call  the  idea  of  our 
personality.  This  vague  conception 
(schema),  which  represents  the  real 
personality  much  as  the  general  idea  of 
"  man  "  represents  a  man,  or  as  the  plan  of 
a  city  represents  that  city,  suffices  for  the 
ordinary  needs  of  our  mental  life.  In 
neuropathic  patients  there  must  be  two 
images  or  schemas  which  succeed  each' 
other  in  the  consciousness,  as  the  physi- 
ological state  gives  precedence  to  the 
new  Me  or  the  old.  But  in  the  transition 


*  Revue  Philosophique,  vol.  I.,  p.  289.     See  also 
L'  Intelligence,  4th  ed.,  vol.  II.,  appendix. 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


33 


from  the  one  to  the  other,  however  sud- 
den it  may  appear,  there  is  a  certain  con- 
tinuity. There  is  no  absolute  beginning 
of  the  one  state  of  consciousness  with 
absolute  ending  of  the  other,  but  with  an 
hiatus,  vacancy  between.  Like  all  states 
of  consciousness,  these  have  a  certain 
duration :  they  occupy  some  portion  of 
time,  and  the  terminal  end  of  one  touches 
the  initial  end  of  the  other.  Nay  they 
trench  upon  each  other,  while  one  is 
beginning  the  other  still  subsists,  though 
vanishing :  for  a  certain  period  they  co- 
exist. In  our  opinion  it  is  during  this 
period  of  co-existence  or  of  transition, 
that  the  patient  thinks  himself  twain. 

Finally  it  is  to  be  observed  that  the 
sensorial  disorders  are  only  the  result  of 
a  deeper  disorder  that  is  felt  throughout 
the  organism ;  and  that  consequently 
here  again  the  bodily  sense  plays  the 
principal  part  in  the  pathology  of  person- 
ality. 

We  can  now  understand  how  the  con- 
genital or  acquired  suppression  of  one  or 
more  of  the  senses  leaves  the  personality 
intact  at  bottom,  while  momentary  per- 
versions of  a  less  serious  aspect  trans- 
form it.  Physiologically  considered,  we 
have  in  the  first  case  a  sum  of  nervous 
elements  condemned  to  inertia  either  at 
their  origin  or  in  the  course  of  the  indi- 
vidual's life  :  here  the  personality  is  like  a 
weak  or  a  weakened  orchestra,  which 
however  serves  for  all  necessary  purposes. 
In  the  second  case  all  the  nervous  ele- 
ments subsidiary  to  the  impaired  external 
senses,  to  muscular  sensibility,  and  to  or- 
ganic and  visceral  sensibility,  have  under- 
gone an  unwonted  modification :  it  is  as 
with  an  orchestra  in  which  most  of  the 
instruments  have  changed  tone. 


A  natural  transition  from  sense  percep- 
tions to  ideas  is  seen  in  hallucinations, 
and  we  have  now  to  consider  the  part 
played  by  these  in  anomalies  of  personal- 
ity. Let  us  at  the  outset  recall  some 
general  considerations  touching  the  hal- 
lucinatory state.  *  Four  hypotheses  have 
been  offered  to  explain  it. 

1.  The  peripheric  or  sensorial  theory 
which  finds  the  seat  of  hallucinations  in 
the  sense-organs. 

2.  The  psychic  theory,  which  localizes 
it  in  the  center  of  ideation. 


*  For  a  full  exposition  of  the  question  see  Binet's 
important  articles  in  the  Revue  Philosopkique, 
April  and  May,  1884. 

3 


3.  The  mixed,  or  psycho-sensorial  the- 
ory. 

4.  The  theory  which  refers  hallucina- 
tion to  the  perceptive  centers  of  the  cor- 
tical layer. 

Observation  teaches  us  that  hallucina- 
tions affect  now  one  sense  only,  again 
several  senses;  that  usually  they  extend 
to  both  side's  of  the  body,  less  often  to 
only  one  side — right  or  left  indifferently  ; 
more  rarely  still  they  are  bilateral  but  at 
the  same  time  present  a  different  charac- 
ter at  each  side:  thus  one  ear  may  be 
assailed  by  threats,  abuse,  evil  counsels, 
while  the  other  may  hear  only  words  of 
comfort ;  or  one  eye  may  see  only  things 
depressing  and  repugnant,  while  the 
other  may  see  gardens  full  of  flowers. 
The  latter  cases,  those  at  once  bilateral 
and  contradictory,  are  most  interesting 
for  us. 

Fortunately  we  have  to  explore  only  a 
very  restricted  area  of  this  immense  do- 
main. Let  us  clearly  define  our  subject. 
In  the  normal  state  the  individual  that 
senses  and  thinks  is  adapted  to  his  en- 
vironment. Between  the  group  of  inter- 
nal states  and  relations  that  constitute 
the  mind,  and  the  group  of  external  states 
and  relations  that  constitute  the  outer 
world,  there  exists  a  correspondence,  as 
Herbert  Spencer  has  shown  in  detail. 
In  the  hallucinate  this  correspondence  is 
destroyed :  hence  false  judgments  and 
senseless  acts,  that  is  non-adapted  acts. 
Nevertheless  all  this  constitutes  a  disease 
of  the  reason,  not  of  the  personality.  No 
doubt  the  Me  suffers  an  impairment,  but 
as  long  as  the  consensus  which  consti- 
tutes it  has  not  disappeared,  and  has  not 
split  in  two,  or  has  not  alienated  a  part 
of  itself  (as  we  shall  see  later)  there  is  no 
proper  disease  of  personality  and  the  dis- 
orders are  secondary  and  superficial. 
Consequently  we  may  leave  out  of  con- 
sideration the  immense  majority  of  cases 
of  hallucination. 

Neither  need  we  take  account  of  the 
large  number  of  patients  who  misappre- 
hend others'  personalities — who  take  the 
physicians  and  the  nurses  in  the  asylum 
for  their  own  relatives,  or  who  take  their 
own  relatives  for  the  imaginary  person- 
ages of  their  ravings,  t 

The  ground  being  thus  cleared,  the 
cases  that  remain  to  be  studied  are  not 


t  For  some  patients  the  same  individual  is  alter- 
nately transformed  into  an  imaginary  personage 
and  kept  in  his  real  personality.  A  woman  patient 
would  now  recognize  her  husband,  again  would 
take  him  for  an  intruder.  She  had  him  arrested 
by  the  police,  and  he  had  much  trouble  in  proving 
his  identity. 


34 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


very  numerous,  comprising  only  changes 
of  personality  with  their  basis  in  halluci- 
nation. Nearly  always  there  is  simply  an 
alienation  (in  the  etymological  sense)  of 
certain  states  of  consciousness  which  the 
Me  does  not  consider  as  its  own,  which 
it  makes  objective,  which  it  sets  outside 
itself,  and  to  which  it  at  last  attributes 
an  actual  existence  independent  of  its 
own. 

As  regards  hearing,  the  history  of  relig- 
ious insanity  furnishes  many  instances: 
I  will  cite  the  simpler  cases,  those  in 
which  the  hallucinatory  state  stands  alone 
at  first.  A  woman  was  beset  by  an 
inner  voice  "  which  she  heard  only  in  her 
ear,"  and  which  marie  opposition  to  what- 
ever she  herself  willed.  The  voice  was 
ever  for  evil,  while  the  patient  willed  the 
good.  It  would  at  times  cry  out  to  her 
though  it  could  not  be  heard  externally 
"  Take  your  knife  and  kill  yourself." 
Another  woman,  subject  to  Hysteria,  at 
first  uttered  words  that  «he  did  not  in- 
tend tp  utter,  and  soon  she  began  to  ex- 
press these  alien  thoughts  in  a  voice  dif- 
ferent from  her  ordinary  voice.  At  first 
this  voice  made  remarks  of  an  ordinary 
tenor  or  not  inconsistent  with  reason  : 
afterward  it  assumed  a  habit  of  nega- 
tion. 

"  To-day,  after  thirteen  years,  the  voice 
simply  confirms  what  the  patient  has  just 
said,  or  comments  upon  her  words,  criticises 
them,  ridicules  them.  The  tone  of  this  voice, 
when  the  '  spirit '  speaks,  always  differs  a 
little  and  sometimes  differs  totally  from  the 
patient's  ordinary  voice,  and  hence  it  is  that 
she  believes  in  the  reality  of  the  spirit.  I 
have  myself  often  observed  these  facts.  "  * 

As  regards  sight,  aberrations  of  this 
kind  are  less  frequent.  "  A  very  intelli- 
gent man  "  says  Wigan  (page  126), 
"  had  the  faculty  of  bringing  before  him- 
self his  own  double.  He  would  laugh 
heartily  when  the  double  appeared,  and  the 
double  would  laugh  too.  This  was  for  a  long 
time  a  matter  of  amusement  for  him  but  the 
final  result  was  pitiable.  The  man  gradu- 
ally came  to  believe  that  he  was  haunted  by 
himself.  To  put  an  end  to  this,  wretched  life 
he  arranged  his  affairs,  and  unwilling  to 
enter  on  another  year,  at  midnight  of  Dec.  31 
he  shot  himself  with  a  pistol  in  the  mouth." 

Finally,  Dr.  Ball  t  describes  the  case 
of  a  young  man  who,  while  traveling 


in  South  America  had  a  sunstroke  which 
"  left  him  very  ill :  he  was  unconscious  for 
a  month.  A  few  days  after  having  regained 
his  senses,  he  heard  distinctly  a  man's  voice 
perfectly  articulated,  uttering  the  words, 
'  How  are  you  to-day  ? '  The  patient  an- 
swered and  a  short  conversation  ensued. 
The  next  day  the  same  question  was  re- 
peated. This  time  the  patient  looked  about, 
and  could  see  no  one  in  the  room.  '  Who 
are  you  ? '  he  said,  '  I  am  Mr.  Cabbage,' 
answered  the  voice.  Some  days  later  the 
patient  had  a  glimpse  of  his  interlocutor, 
who  thenceforward  presented  the  same 
features  and  dress.  He  saw  him  always 
from  the  front,  but  only  his  bust ;  he  always 
wore  a  hunting  costume,  and  had  the  look  of 
a  vigorous  and  well  built  man  of  about 
thirty-six  years,  with  a  heavy  beard ;  com- 
plexion dark,  eyes  large  and  black,  and  eye- 
brows strongly  marked.  Impelled  by  a 
justifiable  curiosity,  our  patient  would  fain 
know  the  calling  of  his  questioner  and  how 
and  where  he  lived,  but  the  man  never  con- 
sented to  tell  more  about  himself  than  his 


At  last  Cabbage  grew  more  and  more 
exacting,  ordering  the  young  man  to 
throw  into  the  fire  his  newspaper,  his 
watch  and  chain,  to  poison  a  young 
woman  and  her  -child,  to  throw  himself 
out  of  a  third-story  window,  etc. 

In  these  facts  we  see  the  beginning  of 
a  dissolution  of  personality.  We  will 
further  on  cite  other  cases  not  having 
their  ground  in  hallucination,  and  which 
will  enable  us  better  to  understand  these. 
That  coordination  more  or  less  perfect 
which  in  the  normal  state  constitutes 
the  Me,  is  here  partially  broken  up.  In 
the  group  of  states  of  consciousness 
which  we  feel  to  be  our  own  because 
they  are  produced  or  experienced  by 
ourselves,  there  is  in  such  cases  one 
which,  though  it  has  its  source  in  the 
organism,  does  not  enter  into  this 
consensus,  stands  apart,  appears  as  though 
foreign  to  it.  Here  we  have  in  the  or- 
der of  thought  the  analogon  of  irresist- 
ible impulse  in  the  order  of  action — a 
partial  incobrdination.  J 

Certainly  these  voices  and  these  vis- 
ions emanate  from  the  patient:  why 
then  does  he  not  regard  them  as  his 
own  ?  It  is  a  difficult  question  but  I 
will  endeavor  to  answer  it.  There  must 
exist  anatomical  and  physiological  causes 
which  would  solve  the  problem,  but  un- 
fortunately they  are  hidden  from  us. 


*  Gnesinger,  Mental  Diseases,  French  trans,  p. 
285.  Baillarger  reports  a  similar  case  in  the  A  n- 
nales  Mddico-Psych.,  ist.  series,  vol.  VI.  p.  151. 

t  Cerebral  Dualism.  See  HUMBOLDT  LIBRARY  No. 
87- P.  31- 


t  With  regard  to  irresistible  impulse  as  a  phe- 
nomenon of  partial  incoordination,  see  Diseases 
of  the  Will,  Chapter  III.  (HUMBOLDT  LIBRARY 
No.  52.) 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


35 


Being  ignorant  of  the  causes,  we  can 
view  only  the  surface,  the  symptoms,  the 
states  of  consciousness,  with  the  signs 
which  interpret  them.  Take  then  a 
state  of  consciousness  (with  its  organic 
conditions)  having  this  special  character 
of  being  local,  /'.  <?.,  one  that  has  the 
faintest  possible  relation  to  the  physical 
and  psychic  organization.  To  make  my 
meaning  clear  by  antithesis,  take  a  vio- 
lent, sudden  emotion :  it  reverberates 
•everywhere,  stirs  the  whole  life,  physical 
and  mental :  there  is  thorough  diffusion. 
Our  case  is  the  reverse  of  this.  Organi- 
cally and  psychically,  it  has  but  few  con- 
nections, and  these  precarious,  with  the 
rest  of  the  individual.  It  is  outside, 
like  a  foreign  body  lodged  in  the  organ- 
ism, and  not  sharing  in  its  life.  It  does 
not  enter  the  general  sensibility  (coen- 
aesthesis)  which  maintains  and  unifies 
the  whole.  It  is  a  cerebral  phenomenon 
almost  without  a  support,  like  the 
thoughts  imposed  by  suggestion  in  hyp- 
notism. What  gives  force  to  this  at- 
tempt at  an  explanation  is  the  fact  that 
the  morbid  state,  unless  it  be  removed 
bv  nature  or  by  medical  treatment,  has 
an  irresistible  tendency  to  expand  and 
grow  strong  at  the  expense  of  the  origi- 
nal personality,  which  begins  to  decline, 
preyed  upon  by  this  parasite.  Neverthe- 
less, in  this  case  it  retains  its  original 
character  :  it  does  not  constitute  a  dupli- 
cation of  personality  but  an  alienation. 

I  offer  this  effort  toward  an  explana- 
tion only  as  an  hypothesis,  well  aware 
that  our  ignorance  of  the  organic  condi- 
tions of  the  phenomenon  makes  defini- 
tive proof  impossible.  In  presenting  this 
•explanation  I  have  had  to  anticipate  what 
will  later  be  said  with  regard  to  ideas, 
and  which  will  perhaps  furnish  us  with 
new  arguments  in  favor  of  our  hypothe- 
sis. 


We  come  now  to  speak  of  recent  ex- 
periments on  hallucinations ;  these,  in 
conjunction  with  other  facts,  have  led 
certain  authors  to  offer  an  explanation  of 
•double  personality  so  simple  as  to  be 
palpable,  so  to  speak.  These  authors 
show  first  the  functional  independence 
•of  the  two  hemispheres  of  the  brain,  and 
thence  infer  that  from  their  synergy 
results  equilibrium  of  the  mind,  but 
from  their  disaccord  sundry  perturba- 
tions and  finally  scission  of  the  psychic 
individual.  There  are  here  two  dis- 
tinct questions  that  are  clearly  recog- 
nized by  many  of  the  authors  we  are 


about  to  quote,  but  which  have  been  con- 
founded by  others. 

A  physician  of  note  as  a  psychologist, 
Sir  Henry  Holland,  was  the  first  to  study 
in  1840,  the  brain  as  a  double  organ,  and 
to  suggest  that  certain  mental  aberra- 
tions might  be  due  to  ill-regulated  action 
of  the  two  hemispheres,  seeing  that,  in 
some  cases,  the  one  seems  to  correct  the 
perceptions  and  the  feelings  of  the  other. 
In  1844  Wigan  went  farther,  holding 
that  we  have  two  brains,  not  one  brain, 
and  that  "the  corpus  callosum,  instead 
of  being  a  bond  of  union  between  them, 
is  a  wall  of  separation."*  Later  prog- 
ress in  brain  anatomy  yielded  more  posi- 
tive results,  showing  the  inequality  in 
weight  of  the  two  lobes  of  the  brain, 
their  constant  asymmetry,  differences  in 
the  topography  of  the  cortex,  etc.  Bfo- 
ca's  discovery  of  the  seat  of  aphasia  was 
a  new  argument  of  great  value.  It  was 
further  supposed  that  the  left  hemisphere 
might  be  the  principal  seat  of  intelligence 
and  will,  while  on  the  right  hemisphere 
would  devolve  more  especially  the  life  of 
nutrition  (Brown-Sequard).  I  condense 
this  account,  which  else  might  be  long, 
to  come  at  once  to  hallucinations.  The 
occurrence  simultaneously  of  contradic- 
tory hallucinations — joyous  and  sad — 
attracted  the  attention  of  observers. 
There  was  something  better  than  obser- 
vation, too — experimentation ;  and  hyp- 
notism made  this  possible.  The  hyp- 
notized subject  has  three  phases :  the 
lethargic,  characterized  by  nervo-mus- 
cular  excitability;  the  cataleptic,  pro- 
duced by  raising  the  eyelids  of  the  sub- 
ject ;  the  somnambulic,  caused  by  pres- 
sure on  the  vertex.  If  during  the  cata- 
leptic state  we  lower  the  right  eyelid,  we 
thereby  act  upon  the  left  brain,  and 
determine  a  lethargic  state  of  the  right 
side  only.  Hence  the  subject  finds  him- 
self as  it  were  divided  in  twain :  he  is 
hemilethargic  on  the  right  side,  hemi- 
cataleptic  on  the  left.  I  take  from 
Richer's  well-known  work  an  account 
of  what  takes  place. 

"  I  set  upon  a  table  a  pail  of  xvater,  a  basin, 
and  soap.  As  soon  as  the  patient  s  eye  is 
drawn  to  these  objects,  or  her  hand  touches 
one  of  them,  apparently  quite  of  her  own  ac- 
cord she  pours  water  into  the  basin,  takes  the 
soap,  and  washes  her  hands  with  scrupulous 


*  Wigan,  The  Duality  of  Mind  Proved  by  the 
,  'ructure.  Functions,  and  Diseases  of  tke  Brain, 
and  by  the  Phenomena  of  Mental  Derangement, 


Structure,  Functions,  and' Diseases  of  the  Brain, 
and  by  the  Phenomena  of  Mental  Derangement, 
and  shown  to  be  Essential  to  Moral  Responsibility. 


London,  1844.    This  ill-compacted  work  does  not 
bear  out  the  promise  of  its  title. 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


care.  If  now  we  close  the  lid  of  one  of  her 
eyes,  the  right  for  instance,  the  whole  right 
side  becomes  lethargic,  and  the, right  hand  is 
stayed,  while  the  left  hand  continues  to  per- 
form its  movements.  Raise  the  eyelid  again, 
and  both  hands  resume  their  action  as  be- 
fore." The  same  thing  occurs  with  the  left 
side.  "Put  in  the  patient's  hands  the  box 
containing  her  knitting,  and  she  will  open  it, 
take  out  her  work,  and  knit  away  with  re- 
markable skill.  Close  one  of  her'  eyes,  and 
the  corresponding  hand  stops,  the  arm  fall- 
ing inert  to  her  side,  while  the  other  hand 
strives  to  continue,  unaided,  a  work  that 
now  is  impossible.  The  mechanism  keeps 
on  working  on  one  side,  but  it  modifies  its 
motions  in  order  to  make  them  effective." 

The  author  recounts  several  instances 
like  this  :  I  will  cite  only  the  last  one,  be- 
cause it  confirms  Broca's  experiment. 
One  places  in  the  subject's  hands  an  open 
book  directing  her  gaze  upon  one  of  the 
lines.  She  begins  to  read. 

"  During  the  reading,  if  you  close  the  right 
eye—and  by  the  decussation  of  the  optic 
nerves,  it  is  the  left  brain  that  is  now  affected 
— she  stops  short  in  the  middle  of  a  word  or 
ef  a  phrase.  When  the  right  eye  is  opened 
again,  she  forthwith  completes  the  inter- 
rupted word  or  phrase.  If  on  the  other 
hand  the  left  eye  be  closed,  she  continues 
her  reading,  hesitating  a  little  because  she  is 
amblyopic  and  achromatopsic  in  the  right 
eye."  * 

These  experiments  may  be  varied.  A 
different  attitude  is  given  to  the  members 
of  each  side  of  the  body  :  then  the  sub- 
ject shows,  on  one  side,  the  expression  of 
one  giving  a  command,  on  the  other,  that 
of  one  that  is  smiling  and  sending  kisses. 
We  can  produce  the  hallucinatory  state 
on  the  right  side  only,  or  on  the  left  side 
only.  Or  let  two  persons  approach  the 
ear  of  the  subject ;  one,  on  the  right, 
speaks  of  the  fine  weather,  and  there  is  a 
smile  on  the  right  side  of  the  subject's 
countenance  :  the  other,  on  the  left,  tells 
how  it  rains,  and  the  left  side  manifests 
dissatisfaction,  while  the  labial  commis- 
sure falls.  Or  again,  while  one  is  sugges- 
ting through  the  right  ear  the  hallucina- 
tion of  a  fete  champetre,  let  another  at 
the  opposite  ear  imitate  the  barking  of  a 
dog :  then  the  right  side  of  the  face  ex- 
presses pleasure,  the  left  uneasiness. 

These  experiments  (of  which  we  give 
only  the  baldest  summary),  together  with 
many  other  facts,  lead  inevitably  to  the 
conclusion  that  the  two  hemispheres  are 


relatively  independent ;  that  this  does 
not  at  all  contradict  their  normal  coordi- 
nation ;  but  that  in  certain  pathological 
cases  this  relative  independence  may  be- 
come an  absolute  dualism. 

Some  authors  go  farther,  and  hold  that 
this  cerebral  dualism  suffices  to  account 
for  all  disaccord  in  the  mind,  from  mere 
hesitation  in  choosing  between  two  things, 
to  complete  duplication  of  personality. 
If  we  simultaneously  will  the  good  and  the 
bad ;  if  we  have  criminal  impulses  and  a 
conscience  that  condemns  them  ;  if  the 
insane  at  times  are  conscious  of  their  in- 
sanity ;  if  the  delirious  have  lucid  mo- 
ments ;  if  finally  some  individuals  believe 
themselves  to  be  double,  the  reason  is 
simply  that  the  two  hemispheres  are  in 
disaccord :  the  one  is  sane,  the  other 
morbid :  one  state  prevails  in  the  right 
brain,  its  opposite  in  the  left- -a  sort  of 
psychological  manicheism. 

Griesinger,  on  encountering  this  theory, 
for  it  was  put  forward  timidly  in  his  day, 
having  cited  the  facts  supposed  to  make 
in  its  favor,  and  having  described  the 
case  of  one  of  his  patients  who  "  was 
conscious  that  he  was  out  of  his  mind  on 
one  side  of  his  head,  the  right,"  concludes 
in  these  words  :  "  As  for  me,  I  am  not  in 
the  least  disposed  to  accord  any  great 
weight  to  these  facts."  Have  they 
gained  in  cogency  since?  It  is  very 
doubtful.  In  the  first  place,  since  the 
theory  rests  on  the  question  of  number, 
are  there  not  individuals  who  believe 
themselves  to  be  triple  ?  I  find  at  least 
one  case.  "  I  have  met,"  says  Esquiros, 
"  in  an  institutionjor  the  insane  a  priest 
who,  having  applie'd  his  mind  too  intently 
to  the  mystery  of  the  Holy  Trinity,  came 
at  last  to  see  around  him  triple  objects. 
He  fancied  that  he  himself  was  in  three 
persons,  and  wanted  to  be  served  at 
table  with  three  covers,  three  plates, 
three  napkins."t  Other  cases  could,  I 
suppose,  be  found,  were  one  to  search  for 
them  :  but  I  do  not  care  to  take  advan- 
tage of  this  case  of  triplicity,  for  it  is  sus- 
ceptible of  many  interpretations.  The 
theory  in  question  is  opposed  by  stronger 
reasons,  based  upon  familiar  facts.  Its 
ultimate  ground  is  the  perfectly  gratui- 
tous hypothesis  that  the  contest  is  always 
between  two  states  only.  This  is  flatly 
contradicted  by  experience.  Who  '  is 
there  that  has  never  found  himself  hesi- 
tating between  doing  this  and  doing  that 
and  refraining  from  acting  at  all  ?  be- 
tween making  a  journey  northward  or 


*  P.    Richer,  Etudes  Cliniques  sur 
JLpilepsie,  p.  391. 


Hyste'ro- 


t  Revue des  Deux  Mondes,  15  Oct.,  1845,  p.  307. 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


37 


southward,  or  remaining  at  home? 
Many  a  time  in  our  lives  does  it  happen 
that  we  have  to  make  our  choice  between 
three  alternatives  each  one  of  which  nec- 
essarily excludes  the  other  two.  Where 
shall  we  locate  the  third  ?  for  under  that 
strange  form  the  question  has  been 
raised. 

In  some  cases  of  congenital  atrophy  of 
the  brain  which  appear  to  be  confirmed 
by  authentic  observations,  we  find  indi- 
viduals possessing  from  infancy  only  one 
cerebral  hemisphere,  yet  their  intellectual 
development  has  been  up  to  the  ordinary 
standard,  and  they  have  been  like  other 
human  beings.  *  In  such  individuals,  ac- 
cording to  the  hypothesis  we  are  com- 
bating, there  could  have  been  no  interior 
conflict.  But  it  is  needless  to  pursue  this 
criticism  further,  and  I  content  myself 
with  recalling  Griesinger's  remark  upon 
a  verse  in  Faust .  Not  two  souls  only,  but 
many  souls  dwell  within  us. 

Idle  indeed  were  this  discussion  if  it 
did  not  afford  us  a  view  of  our  subject 
under  a  different  aspect.  These  contra- 
dictions within  the  personality,  this  par- 
tial scission  in  the  Me,  such  as  we  see 
them  in  the  lucid  moments  of  insanity 
and  delirium,  or  in  the  self-condemnation 
of  the  dipsomaniac  while  he  raises  the 
cup  to  his  lips,  are  not  oppositions  in 
space  (of  one  hemisphere  against  the 
other)  but  oppositions  in  time.  To  bor- 
row a  favorite  expression  of  Lewes's,  they 
are  successive  "  attitudes "  of  the  Me. 
This  hypothesis  accounts  for  everything 
that  is  explained  by  the  other  and  be- 
sides it  explains  what  that  does  not. 

If  one  is  fully  imbued  with  the  idea  that 
personality  is  a  consensus,  one  will  easily 
see  how  the  mass  of  conscious,  sub-con- 
scious, and  unconscious  states  which  make 
it  up  may  at  a  given  moment  be  summed 
up  in  a  tendency  or  a  predominant  state 
which,  for  the  person  himself  and  for 
others,  is  its  expression  at  that  moment. 
Straightway  this  same  mass  of  constitu- 
ent elements  is  summed  up  in  an  opposite 
state  which  has  become  predominant. 
Such  is  our  dipsomaniac,  who  drinks  and 
who  condemns  himself.  The  state  of 
consciousness  predominant  at  a  given  mo- 
ment is  for  the  individual  himself  and  for 
others  his  personality. 

Clearly  three  states  or  more  may  suc- 
ceed one  another  (co-exist  apparently)  by 
the  same  mechanism.  We  are  no  longer 


*  Cotard,  Etude  sur  f  -Mrophie  Cerebrate.  Paris, 
t868.  Diet.  Encyc .  dts  Sci  -nces  Medicales*  art.  CER- 
VEAf,  pp.  298,  453. 


restricted  to  the  number  two.  True,  it 
must  be  admitted  that  this  inner  scission 
occurs  more  frequently  between  two  con- 
trary states  than  between  three  or  more. 
This  is  owing  to  certain  conditions  of 
consciousness  which  we  must  recall. 

Is  there  actual  co-existence  of  two  states 
of  consciousness,  or  only  so  rapid  a  suc- 
cession of  one  to  the  other  as  to  resemble 
simultaneousness  ?  The  question  is  a 
very  difficult  one  and  has  not  yet  been 
settled,  though  it  will  perhaps  one  day  be 
settled  by  the  psycho-physicists.  Hamil- 
ton and  others  have  maintained  that  we 
may  have  as  many  as  six  impressions  at 
once,  but  their  conclusion  is  grounded  on 
very  inexact  observations.  The  determi- 
nation of  the  duration  of  states  of  con- 
sciousness by  the  rigorous  processes  of 
physics  is  a  great  step  in  advance.  Wundt 
has  endeavored  to  go  further,  and  to  deter- 
mine by  experiment  what  he  justly  calls  the 
extension  of  consciousness  ( Umfang  des 
Bewusstseins),  that  is,  the  maximum  num- 
ber of  states  that  it  can  simultaneously 
contain.  His  experiments  have  had  to 
do  only  with  exceedingly  simple  impres 
sions  (the  strokes  of  a  pendulum  at  fixed 
intervals  punctuated  by  strokes  on  a 
small  bell)  and  therefore  they  are  not 
in  all  respects  applicable  to  the  complex 
states  we  are  considering.  He  finds  that 
"twelve  representations  form  the  max- 
imum '  extension '  of  consciousness  in 
the  case  of  successive  relatively  simple 
states."  t  Experience  then,  seems  to 
pronounce  in  favor  of  a  very  rapid  suc- 
cession, equivalent  to  a  co-existence.  The 
two,  three,  or  four  contrary  states  would 
be  at  bottom  a  succession. 

Further,  we  know  that,  to  use  a  com  - 
parison  that  is  often  employed,  con- 
sciousness, like  the  retina,  has  its  "  blind 
spot."  Distinct  vision  is  but  a  small  por- 
tion of  the  total  vision.  Distinct  con- 
sciousness is  only  a  small  portion  of  the 
total  consciousness.  Here  we  hit  the 
natural,  the  incurable  cause  of  that  illu- 
sion whereby  the  individual  identifies 
himself  with  his  existing  state  of  con- 
sciousness, particularly  when  the  same  is 
intense ;  and  of  necessity  this  illusion  is 
far  stronger  for  himself  than  for  others. 
We  see  also  why  (apparent)  co-existence 
is  easier  for  two  contrary  states  than  for 
three ;  and  far  easier  than  for  a  larger 
number.  This  fact  is  due  to  the  limita- 
tions of  the  consciousness.  As  we  said 


+    CrundzUge  der  Physiol.    Psyckologie,  zd  ed., 
vol.  II.,  p.  215. 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


before,  there  is  an  opposition  in  time,  not 
in  space. 

In  short,  the  relative  independence  of  the 
two  hemispheres  is  not  open  to  doubt : 
neither  may  we  doubt  that  the  personal- 
ity is  perturbed  by  disaccord  between 
them.  But  to  reduce  the  whole  matter 
to  a  simple  division  between  the  left  side 
and  the  right  is  an  hypothesis  not  sup- 
ported by  ^ny  weighty  argument. 


A  few  words  with  regard  to  memory. 
We  have  no  occasion  to  study  memory 
separately,  for  it  pervades  our  subject 
everywhere.  Personality,  in  fact,  is  not 
a  phenomenon  but  an  evolution ;  not  a 
momentary  thing  but  a  history ;  not  a 
present  nor  a  past  but  both.  We  will  not 
consider  what  I  may  call  the  objective, 
intellectual  memory — the  sense  percep- 
tions, images,  experiences,  cognitions 
stored  up  within  us.  All  these  may  dis- 
appear, in  part  or  wholly,  through 
diseases  of  memory,  of  which  we  have 
given  many  illustrations  elsewhere.* 
We  will  consider  now  only  the  subjec- 
tive memory — memory  of  ourselves,  of 
our  physiological  life  and  of  the  sensa- 
tions or  feelings  that  accompany  it.  This 
distinction  is  purely  artificial,  but  it  will 
enable  us  to  simplify  matters. 

First,  does  such  a  memory  exist  ? 
One  might  say  that  in  the  perfectly 
healthy  individual  the  vital  tone  is  so  con- 
stant that  the  consciousness  he  has  of  his 
body  is  but  a  present  ever  repeated  ; 
but  this  monotony,  if  it  exists,  by 
excluding  consciousness  would  on  the 
other  hand  favor  the  formation  of  an  or- 
ganic memory.  As  a  fact  there  are  al- 
ways going  on  changes — inconsiderable 
they  may  be — and  as  we  are  conscious 
only  of  differences,  these  are  felt.  So 
long  as  they  are  faint  and  partial  the  im- 
pression of  uniformity  persists,  because 
actions  that  are  continually  repeated  are 
represented  in  the  nervous  system  far 
"more  enduringly  than  ephemeral  changes. 
Consequently  the  memory  of  them  is  or- 
ganized beneath  consciousness,  and  it  is 
hence  all  the  more  firmly  based.  Here 
we  see  the  groundwork  of  our  identity. 
These  slight  changes  act  in  the  long  run, 
producing  what  is  called  an  insensible 
change.  After  ten  years  of  absence,  an 
object,  say  a  monument,  is  the  same  to 
the  eye,  but  it  is  not  the  same  as  regards 
feeling  and  sentiment .  here  it  is  not  the 


*  Diseases  of  Memory  (HuMBOLDT  LIBRARY    No. 
46.) 


faculty  of  sense  perception  but  its  accom- 
paniment that  has  changed.  But  we 
have  here  the  state  of  sanity  and  health 
— the  simple  transformation  that  is  nat- 
ural to  everything  that  lives  and  that 
evolves. 

Such  is  organic  memory,  such  its  habit. 
But  now  let  certain  disturbing  causes  in- 
tervene of  which  we  can  demonstrate  the 
effects,  subjective  and  objective.  There 
is  produced  a  profound  and  sudden,  or  at 
least  a  rapid  and  persistent  transforma- 
tion of  the  ccenaesthesis.  What  is  the  re- 
sult ?  Experience  alone  can  tell,  for  in 
our  ignorance  of  the  causes  we  are  re- 
duced to  simple  empiricism.  In  extreme 
cases — and  we  will  not  notice  others — the 
individual  is  changed.  His  metamorphosis 
occurs  in  three  principal  forms,  as  regards 
the  memory, 

i  st.  The  new  personality,  after  a  longer 
or  shorter  period  of  transition,  alone  re- 
mains, the  original  personality  being  for- 
gotten (Leuret's  patient).  This  case  is 
rare.  It  supposes  the  former  ccenaesthe- 
sis completely  done  away,  or  at  least  for- 
ever inactive  and  incapable  of  resuscita- 
tion. When  it  is  considered  that  absolute 
transformation  of  personality,  t.e.,  substi- 
tution of  one  personality  for  another — 
substitution  complete,  unreserved,  with- 
out a  link  to  connect  the  present  with  the 
past — presupposes  a  radical  and  thorough 
transformation  in  the  organism,  one  is 
not  surprised  to  find  that  it  occurs  but 
rarely.  I  am  not  aware  of  any  case 
where  the  second  personality  has  not  in- 
herited at  least  some  small  share  of  the 
effects  of  its  predecessor — at  the  very 
least  certain  acquired  faculties  that  have 
become  automatic,  as  the  power  of  walk- 
ing, talking,  and  the  like. 

2d.  Usually  beneath  the  new  bodily 
sense  (ccenaesthesis)  that  has  become  or- 
ganized and  has  become  the  groundwork 
of  the  exsiting  Me,  the  old  organic 
memory  persists.  From  time  to  time  it 
returns  to  consciousness,  weak  and  faint 
like  some  memory  of  childhood  that  repe- 
tition has  not  reawakened.  Probably 
this  reviviscence  is  caused  by  some  re- 
mainder of  the  old  organic  memory  that 
is  common  to  the  two :  the  individual 
then  seems  another.  The  existing  state 
of  consciousness  evokes  a  like  one,  but 
this  has  another  accompaniment.  The 
two  seem  mine  though  contradictor)"  of 
each  other.  Such  is  the  case  with  patients 
who  find  that  everything  is  as  it  ever  was, 
and  yet  that  all  is  changed. 

3d.  Finally,  there  are  cases  of  alterna- 
tion. Here  the  two  subjective  memories 


THE  DISEASES  OF  PERSONALITY. 


39 


— the  organized  expression  of  the  two 
ccenaestheses — persist,  both  in  turn  be- 
coming predominant.  Each  is  attended 
by,  and  sets  in  action  a  group  of  feelings 
and  of  physical  and  intellectual  aptitudes 
that  do  not  exist  in  the  other.  Each  forms 
part  of  a  separate  complexus.  The  case 
reported  by  Azam  is  a  good  illustration 
of  two  memories  alternating. 

We  can  add  nothing  more  without  re- 
peating what  we  have  already  said,  or 
without  heaping  up  hypotheses.  Our  ig- 
norance of  the  causes  stops  us  short. 
The  psychologist  is  here  like  the  physi- 
cian who  has  to  deal  with  a  disease  of 
which  he  can  make  out  only  the  symp- 
toms. What  physiological  influences  are 
they  which  thus  alter  the  general  tone  of 
the  organism,  consequently  of  the  ccenaes- 
thesis,  consequently  too  of  the  memory  ? 
Is  it  some  condition  of  the  vascular  sys-» 
tern  ?  Or  some  inhibitory  action,  some 
arrest  of  function  ?  We  cannot  say.  So 
long  as  this  question  remains  undecided 
we  are  still  only  at  the  surface  of  the 
matter.  Our  purpose  has  simply  been  to 
show  that  memory  though  in  some  re- 
spects it  may  be  confounded  with  person- 
ality, is  not  its  ultimate  basis. 

Even  in  the  normal  state  the  same 
physical  situation  has  a  tendency  to  re- 
call the  same  mental  situation.  I  have 
often  observed  how,  on  falling  asleep,  a 
dream  of  the  preceding  night  till  then 
forgotten  comes  back  to  memory  in  great 
detail  and  very  distinct.  In  traveling, 
when  I  leave  one  town  to  sleep  in  an- 
other, this  recurrence  of  the  previous 
night's  dream  sometimes  takes  place,  but 
then  the  dream  comes  back  piecemeal, 
disjointed,  and  hard  to  reconstruct.  Is 
this  the  effect  of  the  physical  conditions, 
in  one  case  alike,  in  the  other  slightly  dif- 
ferent? Though  I  have  not  seen  this 
fact  mentioned  in  any  work  upon  dreams, 
I  do  not  suppose  it  to  be  peculiar  to  me. 

But  there  are  certain  familiar  facts 
that  are  more  conclusive.  In  somnam- 
bulism, whether  natural  or  induced,  the 
occurrences  of  preceding  states  of  the 
same  kind  that  are  forgotten  during 
wakefulness  come  back  in  the  hypnotic 
state.  Of  this  we  have  an  illustration  in 
the  well  known  case  of  the  porter  who 
while  intoxicated  mislaid  a  parcel :  on 
becoming  sober  he  was  unable  to  discover 
it,  but  he  found  it  on  getting  drunk  again. 
Do  we  not  here  see  a  tendency  to  the 
formation  of  two  memories,  one  normal, 
the  other  pathological,  the  two  pertaining 
to  two  distinct  states  of  the  organism, 
and  constituting  as  it  were  the  embry- 


onic forms  of  the  extreme  cases  already 
mentioned  ? 


We  have  already  shown  in  a  general 
way  the  role  of  ideas  in  the  transforma- 
tion of  personality.  It  remains  to  ob- 
serve this  new  factor  in  operation  and  to 
ascertain  what  results  it  produces  per  se 
and  distinctively.  Of  the  many  elements 
whose  consensus  constitutes  the  Me,  none 
perhaps  can  be  so  easily  isolated  and 
studied  apart.  But  we  must  guard 
against  an  ambiguity  in  terms.  For  the 
conscious  individual  the  idea  of  his  per-  * 
sonality  may  be  an  effect  or  a  cause ;  a 
result  or  a  prime  factor,  a  point  of  arrival 
or  a  point  of  departure.  In  the  normal 
state  it  is  always  an  effect,  a  result,  a 
point  of  arrival.  In  the  morbid  state 
it  is  both  an  effect  and  a  cause.  In 
many  of  the  instances  already  cited  we 
have  seen  organic  perturbations,  whether 
affective  or  sensorial,  produce  such  a  feel- 
ing of  exaltation  or  of  depression,  that 
the  individual  believes  himself  to  be  a 
god,  a  giant,  a  great  man,  or  on  the  other 
hand  a  mere  automaton,  a  phantom,  a 
dead  man.  Clearly  these  erroneous  ideas 
are  a  fairly  logical  conclusion  from  the 
inner  transformation  of  the  individual — 
the  ultimate  formula  expressing  it.  There 
are  other  cases  of  a  contrary  nature, 
where  the  transformation  of  personality 
comes  not  from  below  but  from  above ; 
where  it  is  not  completed  in  the  brain 
but  where  it  begins  in  the  brain  ;  and 
where  accordingly  the  idea  is,  not  a  con- 
clusion, but  a  premise.  No  doubt  it 
were  rash  to  assert  that  in  many  in- 
stances where  an  erroneous  idea  becomes 
the  starting-point  for  a  change  in  the 
Me,  this  has  not  underlying  it  and  be- 
fore it  in  time  an  organic  or  an  affective 
perturbation.  Indeed  it  .must  be  affirmed 
that  such  is  the  case  always  ;  even  in  the 
hypnotized  subject,  in  whom  the  person- 
ality is  changed  by  suggestion.  Between 
the  two  forms  of  metamorphosis  indi- 
cated above  there  exists  no  clear  line  of 
demarkation  :  the  term  "  ideal  metamor- 
phosis of  personality  "  is  only  an  a  priori 
denomination.  Having  made  this  reser- 
vation, we  will  now  examine  this  new  as- 
pect of  our  subject,  starting  as  usual 
from  the  normal  state. 

A  very  common  occurrence  is  the  en- 
grossment of  the  personality  by  an  in- 
tense fixed  idea.  So  long  as  this  idea 
occupies  the  consciousness  it  is  hardly 
an  exaggeration  to  say  that  it  is  the  in- 
dividual. When  a  man  is  wrestling  con- 


THE    DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


tinually  with  a  problem,  or  intent  on 
working  out  an  invention,  or  bending  his 
energies  toward  the  production  of  some 
original  work  in  any  field,  his  entire  men- 
tal resources,  his  whole  personality,  are 
drawn  upon  for  the  benefit  of  one  idea. 
In  such  cases,  a  man  is  overmastered 
by  his  dominant  idea,  that  is,  he  is  an 
automaton  :  he  is  in  an  abnormal  state ; 
there  is  a  disturbance  of  equilibrium.  Of 
this  we  have  proof  in  the  innumerable 
anecdotes  that  are  current  the  world  over 
about  inventors,  whether  well  balanced  or 
half-crazed.  And  it  may  be  remarked  in 
'passing  that  a  fixed  idea  is  a  fixed  senti- 
ment, or  a  fixed  passion.  The  fixed  idea 
gets  its  intensity,  its  stability,  its  tenacity 
from  some  longing,  some  emotion  of  love 
or  hatred,  some  consideration  of  gain. 
Ideas  are  ever  servitors  of  the  passions, 
but  they  are  like  those  masters  who  al- 
ways obey  the  while  they  think  they 
command. 

So  far  we  have  no  change  of  personal- 
ity, but  only  simple  deviation  from  the 
normal  type,  or  better,  the  schematic  type, 
where  ex  hypothesi  the  organic,  the  af- 
fective, and  the  intellective  elements  pro- 
duce a  perfect  consensus.  There  is  hy- 
pertrophy at  one  point,  atrophy  at  other 
points,  conformably  to  the  law  of  com- 
pensation. Let  us  consider  morbid  cases. 
Outside  of  the  artificial  alterations  pro- 
duced during  hypnotism  it  is  difficult  to 
find  any  great  number  of  cases  in  which 
the  starting-point  is  indisputably  an  idea. 
But  I  think  I  am  justified  in  classing 
among  changes  of  personality  having 
their  source  in  the  intellect  the  phenom- 
ena of  lycanthropy  and  of  zoanthropy ; 
once  so  common,  now  rare.  At  all 
events,  in  every  instance  of  which  we 
have  authentic  record  *  the  mental  debil- 
ity in  the  lycanthrope  is  so  great,  and  so 
near  akin  to  stupidity,  that  one  is  dis- 
posed to  see  here  a  case  of  reversion,  of 
return  to  the  purely  animal  individuality. 
We  may  add  that  as  these  cases  are  com- 
plicated with  disorders  of  the  viscera,  and 
•with  hallucinations  of  touch  (cutane'es) 
and  of  sight,  it  is  not  easy  to  decide 
whether  they  are  the  effects  of  a  precon- 
ceived idea,  or  whether  they  themselves 
produce  it.  Still  it  must  be  remembered 
that  lycanthropy  has  sometimes  been 
epidemic,  that  is,  it  must  have  begun,  at 
least  among  the  imitators,  with  a  fixed 


*  See  Calmeil,  De  la  Folie  Consideree  sous  le 
Point  de  Vue  Pathologique,  Philosophique,  His- 
torique,  et  Judiciaire,  \  vol.  i,  book  3,  chap.  2 
and  book  4,  chap.  2. 


dea.  Finally,  this  particular  malady  dis- 
appeared when  men  had  ceased  to  be- 
ieve  in  it — when  the  thought  that  he  was 
a  wolf  could  no  longer  find  a  lodgment 
n  a  man's  brain. 

The  only  perfect  instances  of  trans- 
ormation  of  the  personality  by  ideas 
transformation  ideale)  are  those  already 
mentioned,  where  men  believe  them- 
selves to  be  women,  and  vic-e  versa, 
without  presenting  any  sexual  anomaly 
hat  could  account  for  this  metamor- 
phosis. The  influence  of  an  idea  ap- 
>ears  also  to  be  initiative  or  preponder- 
ant with  the  possessed,  demoniacs.  It 
often  acts  upon  the  exorcist  by  contagion. 
To  cite  one  instance  of  this,  Father 
Surin,  so  long  mixed  up  with  the  well- 
cnown  doings  at  the  Loudun  Ursuline 
nunnery,  was  convinced  that  he  had  two 
souls,  and  sometimes,  as  it  would  appear, 
even  three.! 

In  short,  transformation  of  personality 
through  the  dominance  of  an  idea  are 
not  very  frequent,  and  this  affords  new 
proof  ot  what  we  have  again  and  again 
repeated :  that  personality  comes  from 
the  more  fundamental  psychic  elements. 
In  the  higher  nerve  centers  it  attains  its 
unity  and  there  does  it  come  to  full  con- 
sciousness of  itself,  there  it  reaches  per- 
fection. If  by  a  mechanism  acting  in  the 
reverse  direction  it  proceeds  from  above 
downward,  the  result  is  superficial,  pre- 
carious, momentary. 

Of  this  we  have  a  demonstration  when 
artificial  personalities  are  produced  in 
hypnotized  subjects.  The  observations 
of  Ch.  Richet  on  this  subject  are  full  and 
onclusive.J  I  will  sum  them  up  briefly. 


t  He  has  left  us  a  detailed  account  of  his  mental 
state  in  his  Historic  des  Diablts  de  Loudun,  p. 
297  et  seq.:  "  1  cannot  describe  to  you  what  passes 
within  me  during  this  lime  [/.  e.,  when  the  demon 
passes  from  the  body  of  the  possessed  nun  into  his 
body]  and  how  this  spirit  unites  with  mine,  with- 
out depriving  me  either  of  the  cognition  or  of  the 
liberty  of  my  soul,  nevertheless  making  himself 
like  another  me,  and  as  though  I  had  two  souls 
whereof  one  is  dispossessed  of  its  body  and  of  the 
use  of  its  organs  and  stands  aside,  looking  on  while 
the  intruder  makes  herself  at  home.  The  two 
spirits  fight  on  one  field,  which  is  the  body,  and 
the  soul  .is  as  it  were  divided  in  twain  :  in  one  part 
of  her,  she  is  the  subject  of  the  diabolic  impres- 
sions :  in  the  other,  she  is  the  subject  of  the  mo- 
tions that  are  proper  to  her  or  that  God  gives  her. 
When  I  would,  by  the  motion  of  one  of  these  two 
souls,  make  the  sign  of  the  cross  upon  my  lips, 
the  other  turns  my  hand  away  very  rapidly,  and 
seizes  my  finger  with  the  teeth  to  bite  it  in  its  rage. 
*  *  When  I  would  speak  my  speech  is  checked  ; 
at  the  mass  I  am  stopped  quite  short ;  at  the  table 
I  cannot  raise  a  morsel  to'my  mouth  ;  at  confession, 
I  suddenly  forget  my  sins,  and  I  feel  the  devil  go- 
ing and  coming  within  me,  as  in  his  own  house. 

$  Revue  Philosophique,  March,  1883.  He  gives 
some  later  observations  in  his  work,  Z' ' H online  et 
r Intelligence.  See  also  Carpenter,  Mental  Phys- 
iology. 


THE  DISEASES  OF  PERSONALITY. 


The  hypnotized  subject  (usually  a 
woman)  is  made  to  believe  herself  to  be, 
now  a  peasant,  again  an  actress,  or  a 
general,  an  archbishop,  a  nun,  a  sailor,  a 
little  girl,  and  so  forth  ;  and  she  acts  her 
part  without  any  misgiving.  Here  the 
psychological  data  are  perfectly  clear. 
In  this  state  of  artificially  produced  som- 
nambulism the  real  personality  is  intact ; 
the  organic,  affective,  and  intellectual 
elements  have  undergone  no  considerable 
alteration,  but  they  all  remain  in  posse. 
A  certain  not  well  understood  state  of 
the  nerve  centers,  an  arrest  of  function, 
prevents  them  from  passing  into  act. 
By  suggestion  an  idea  is  evoked;  in- 
stantly by  the  mechanism  of  association, 
this  awakens  analogous  states  of  con- 
sciousness, and  no  others ,  and  in  con- 
nection with  them — always  by  associa- 
tion— the  appropriate  gestures,  acts, 
speech  and  sentiments.  In  this  way  is 
constituted  a  personality  external  to  the 
real  personality,  made  up  of  borrowed 
elements  and  depending  on  automatism. 
This  experiment  shows  what  an  idea  may 
do  when  freed  from  control  by  other 
ideas,  but  at  the  same  time  reduced  to 
its  own  sole  forces,  and  no  longer  sup- 
ported and  aided  by  the  totality  of  the 
individual. 

In  some  cases  of  imperfect  hypnotism 
dualism  is  produced.  Dr.  North,  pro- 
fessor of  physiology  in  the  Westminster 
Hospital,  says,  in  speaking  of  the  period 
of  hypnotization  when  he  was  being  in- 
fluenced by  the  fixing  of  the  gaze  . — "  I 
was  not  unconscious,  but  it  seemed  as  if 
I  lived  as  two  beings.  I  fancied  that  an 
inner  Me  was  alive  to  all  that  was  pass- 
ing, but  that  it  took  no  part  in  the  acts  of 
the  outer  Me,  nor  had  any  care  to  control 
them.  The  repugnance  or  the  inability 
of  the  inner  Me  to  direct  the  outer  Me 
seemed  to  increase  as  the  situation  was 
continued."* 


*  Hack  Tuke,  On  the  Mental  Condition  in  Hyp- 
notism, published  in  the  Journal  of  Mental  Sci- 
ence, April.  1883.  We  have  also  in  this  article  the 
case  of  a  physician  who,  during1  a  troubled  slumber 
after  some  twenty  hours  of  climbing  among  the 
Alps,  dreamt  that  he  was  twain  :  one  Me  had 
died,  the  other  was  making  the  autopsy.  In  some 
cases  of  intoxication  and  of  delirium,  the  psychic 
coordination  disappears,  and  there  is  a  kind  oi 
scission  of  the  personality  in  two.  See  the  articles 
by  Dr.  Azam  on  changes  of  personality  (Revue 
Scientifique,  Nov.  17,  1883)  and  of  Dr.  Galicier 
{^Reyue  Philosophique,  July,  1887).  Taine  gives  a 
curiouscase  of  semi-pathological  incoordination  : — 
"  I  have  seen  a  person  who,  while  singing  or  talking 
•writes,  without  looking  at  the  paper,  consecutive 
phrases,  even  whole  pages,  quite  unconscious 
of  what  she  is  writing.  In  my  opinion  she  is  per- 
fectly sincere,  yet  she  declares  that  when  she 
€omes  to  the  end  of  the  page  she  has  no  idea  what 


Can  this  inner  personality— the  true 
personality — ever  be  entirely  suppressed  ? 
Can  the  individual's  proper  character  be 
reduced  to  nought,  so  as  to  be  trans- 
formed into  its  opposite  ?  No  doubt  it 
can  :  the  operator,  by  persistent  enforce- 
ment of  his  authority,  succeeds  in  doing 
this,  after  more  or  less  resistance. 
Richet  impressed  upon  a  woman  who 
was  a  very  strong  Bonapartist  strict  re- 
publican convictions.  Braid  having  hyp- 
notized a  "  teetotaler,"  whose  sobriety 
was  without  reproach,  assured  the  man 
again  and  again  that  he  was  drunk. 
"This  assertion  was  strengthened  by  a 
feeling  of  staggering  (produced  by  mus- 
cular suggestion)  and  it  was  amusing  to 
see  the  man  wavering  between  this  im- 
posed idea  and  the  conviction  resulting 
from  his  habits."  This  momentary  met- 
amorphosis however  is  perfectly  innocu- 
ous. As  Richet  justly  remarks  : — "  In 
these  curious  modifications  what  changes 
is  simply  the  outer  form,  the  habits  and 
general  demeanor,  and  not  the  individu- 
ality proper."  As  for  the  question 
whether  by  repeated  suggestions  to  sus- 
ceptible subjects,  we  might  be  able  at 
length  to  produce  a  modification  of  the 
character  .  that  is  a  problem  to  be  solved 
by  experiment  alone,  and  that  is  beyond 
our  present  purpose. 

Here  perhaps  is  the  place  to  note  the 
fact  of  the  disappearance  of  personality, 
a  phenomenon  that  has  been  described 
by  the  mystics  of  every  age,  according  to 
their  own  experience,  and  often  in  ele- 
gant language.t  The  pantheistic  meta- 


she  has  set  down  on  the  paper.  On  reading  it  she 
is  amazed,  sometimes  alarmed.  The  handwriting 
differs  from  her  ordinary  style.  The  movement  of 
the  fingers  and  of  the  pencil  is  stiff  and  seems 
automatic.  The  writing  always  ends  with  a  signa- 
ture, the  name  of  one  who  is  dead  and  it  bears  the 
impress  of  a  mental  background  \arriere-fond 
mental]  that  the  author  would  be  unwilling  to 
divulge."  (De  t 'Intelligence,  3d  edition,  preface). 
t  I  will  quote  only  one  of  these  descriptions,  and 
that  one  because  by  its  style  of  language  and  its 
date  it  comes  nearest  to  our  own  time.  "  I  seem 
to  have  become  a  statue  on  the  banks  of  the  stream 
of  time,  and  to  be  assisting  at  some  mystery, 
whence  I  shall  go  forth  aged  or  ageless.  I  feel  my- 
self to  be  without  name,  impersonal,  with  the  star- 
ing eyes  of  a  corpse,  with  mind  vague  and  universal 
like  nothingness  or  the  absolute:  I  am  in  suspense, 
I  am  as  if  non-existent.  In  such  moments  it  seems 
to  me  that  my  consciousness  withdraws  into  its 
eternity  *  *  *  it  sees  itself  in  its  very  essence,  su- 
perior to  every  form  containing  its  past,  its  present, 
and  its  future  [sees  itself  as  the]  void  which  en- 
compasses all,  an  atmosphere  (milieu)  invisible  and 
fecund,  the  virtuality  of  a  world  which  detaches 
itself  from  its  own  existence  to  regain  itself  (st 
ressaisir)  in  its  pure  inwardness  (intimite  pure). 
In  those  sublime  moments  the  soul  re-enters  her- 
self, goes  back  again  to  indetermination ;  she  be- 
comes retro-voluted  (Sit  venia  verbo.  The  original 
has  s'est  rtimpliquee.  Translator)  beyond  her  own 
life,  she  becomes  again  a  divine  embryo.  All  isef- 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


physicians,  too,  without  attaining  to  ec- 
stasy, speak  of  a  state  in  which  the  mind 
thinks  of  itself  "  under  the  form  of  eter- 
nity," appears  to  itself  as  outside  of  time 
and  space,  as  free  from  all  contingent 
modality  and  forming  one  with  the  infi- 
nite. This  psychological  situation,  though 
infrequent,  must  not  be  forgotten.  To 
me  it  seems  as  an  absolute  engrossment 
of  the  mental  activity  by  a  single  idea  (in 
the  mystics  a  positive  one,  negative  in 
the  empirics)  which  idea,  from  its  high 
degree  of  abstractness,  and  from  its  be- 
ing exempt  from  all  determination  and 
limitation,  contradicts  and  excludes  all 
feeling  of  individuality.  Let  but  one  sen- 
sation, however  commonplace,  intervene, 
and  the  illusion  disappears.  This  state  is 
neither  above  the  personality  nor  below  it, 
but  without  and  beyond. 

To  sum  up,  the  states  of  consciousness 
called  ideas  are  only  a  secondary  factor 
in  constituting  personality  and  in  chang- 
ing it.  Ideas  play  their  part,  but  it  is  not 
a  predominant  one.  These  results  do  not 
agree  with  the  time-honored  teachings  of 
psychology.  Ideas  have  an  objective 
character :  hence  they  cannot  express  the 
individual  as  do  his  desires,  his  feelings, 
his  passions. 


CHAPTER  V. 
DISSOLUTION    OF  PERSONALITY. 

To  complete  our  review  of  the  facts, 
we  have  yet  to  treat  of  alterations  of  per- 
sonality in  progressive  dementia  caused 
by  old  age,  general  paralysis,  and  all 
other  morbid  causes.  If  in  the  normal 
state  personality  is  a  psycho-physiological 
coordination  of  the  highest  degree  possi- 
ble, which  endures  amid  perpetual  changes 
and  partial  and  transitory  incoordinations 
(such  as  sudden  impulses,  eccentric  ideas, 
etc.),  then  dementia,  which  is  a  progres- 
sive movement  toward  physical  and  men- 
tal dissolution,  must  manifest  itself  by  an 
ever  increasing  incoordination  till  at  last 
the  Me  disappears  in  absolute  incoher- 
ence, and  there  remain  jn  the  individual 
only  the  purely  vital  coordinations — those 
best  organized,  the  lowest,  the  simplest, 


faced,  dissolved,  dissipated,  resumes  the,  primor- 
dial state,  is  immersed  again  in  the  original  fluidity 
without  form,  or  angles,  or  fixed  contours.  This 
state  is  contemplation,  not  stupor:  it  is  neither 
painful,  nor  joyous,  nor  sad  ;  it  is  beyond  all  special 
feeling  and  sentiment,  as  it  is  beyond  all  finite 
thought.  It  is  the  consciousness  of  Being  (f  etre) 
and  the  consciousness  of  the  omnipossibihty  latent 
in  the  depths  of  that  Being.  It  is  the  sense  of 
spiritual  infinitude."  Amiel,  Journal  Intime,  1856. 


and   consequently  the  most  stable,  but 
these  in  turn  disappear  also.     And  it  is 
perhaps  in  these  states  of  progressive  and 
inevitable  dissolution  alone  that  we  find 
instances   of  double   personality  in    the 
strict  sense,  that  is,  of  co-existent  person- 
alities.    In   the  course  of  this  work  we 
have  seen  cases  of  successive  personali- 
ties (cases   mentioned  by  Azam,  Dufay, 
Camuset)  ;  of  a  new  personality  supplant- 
ing another  that  is  forgotten  or  thrust  out 
and  held  to  be   extraneous  and  foreign 
(the  case  cited  by  Leuret,  and  that  of  the 
soldier  of  Austerlitz) ;  of  an  invasion  of 
the  normal  personality  by  unwonted  sen- 
sations which  it  resists  with  more  or  less 
success,  and  which  at  times,  and  momen- 
tarily lead   the  patient  to  think  himself 
twain  (cases   noted   by   Krishaber,   etc.) 
But  in  the  subjects  of  dementia  disorgan- 
ization becomes  organized  :  the  demented 
are   double  in   personality,  think  them- 
selves double,  act  as  double  personalities. 
This  admits  of  no   doubt.     They  retain- 
no  trace  of  that  indecision  which,  in  the 
numerous  cases  we  have  cited,  shows  that 
the  normal  personality  (or  what  remains 
of    it)     possesses    some    remainder    of 
strength  which,  weeks  or  months  later, 
will  insure  its  return.     To  the  demented 
it  seems  as  natural  to  be  double  as  to  us 
to  be  of  one  personality.     Such  individu- 
als have  no  skepticism  as  to  their  own 
state  and  do  not  regard  the  opinions  of 
others.     Their  mode  of  being,  given  to 
them  by  their  consciousness,  seems   so- 
clear  to  them,  so  evident,  as  to  be  above 
all  question.     This    point  is  worthy  of 
notice  because  it  shows  in  these  morbid 
forms  of  personality,  that  spontaneous- 
ness  of  affirmation  and  of  action  which 
is   characteristic   of  every  natural  state. 
Here  are  two  cases  of  this  kind  : 

A  retired  soldier,  D ,who  afterward 

was  a  police  sergeant,  having  been  sev- 
eral times  struck  on  the  head,  lost  his 
memory  by  degrees,  and  at  last  was  sent 
to  an  asylum.  His  mind  becoming  more 
and  more  affected,  at  last  he  came  to 
think  himself  double. 


"  In  talking  he  always  uses  the  pronoun 
we:  we  will  go,  we  have  made  a  long  march, 
etc.  He  uses  this  form  of  speech,  he  saysr 
because  there  is  another  with  him.  At  the 
table  he  says,  '  I  have  had  enough,  but  the 
other  is  still  hungry.'  Sometimes  you  see 
him  running,  and  if  you  ask  why,  the  answer 
is  that  he  would  rather  sit  still,  but  '  the 
other '  makes  him  run.  One  day  he  at- 
tempted to  choke  a  child  to  death,  saying  it 
was  not  himself  but  '  the  other  '  that  was  to- 
blame.  At  last  he  attempted  his  own  life  to 


THE   DISEASES  OF  PERSONALITY. 


slay  '  the  other,'  whom  he  supposes  to  lie  hid 
in  the  left  side  of  his  body.  Hence  he  calls 

'  the  other '  the  left  D while  he  himself 

is  the  right  D .    This  patient  soon  fell 

into  dementia."  * 

A  case  reported  by  Langlois  exhibits  a 
still  lower  grade. 

"  The  man  G is  imbecile,  loquacious, 

with  no  hesitation  in  utterance,  no  paralysis 
of  the  limbs,  and  no  disturbance  of  the 
cutaneous  sensibility.  Though  he  talks 
continually  he  does  but  repeat  the  same 
stereotyped  phrases.  He  always  speaks  of 
himself  in  the  third  person,  and  almost  every 

morning  greets   us   with  '  G is  sick,  he 

must  go  to  the  infirmary.'  Often  he  goes 
upon  his  knees,  and  gives  himself  a  sound 
pummeling ;  then  bursts  out  laughing,  and 

rubbing  his  hands  exclaims, '  G has  been 

bad,  he  has  had  to  do  penance.'  Often  he 
will  take  up  his  wooden  shoe,  and  beat  him- 
self violently  on  the  head,  or  he  will  bury 
his  nails  in  his  flesh,  or  will  scratch  his  face. 
These  fits  of  rage  come  on  suddenly,  and 
while  he  is  disfiguring  himself  his  counte- 
nance is  expressive  of  anger,  but  it  wears 
a  look  of  satisfaction,  as  soon  as  he  has  done 
correcting  the  other.  At  times  when  he  is 
not  overwrought  by  these  imaginary  resent- 
ments, we  ask  him  'Where  is  G ?' 

'  Here  he  is,'  he  answers,  striking  his  breast. 
We  touch  his  head,  asking  whose  that  is. 
'  That,'  he  answers,  '  is  the  pig's  head.' 
'  Wrhy  do  you  beat  it  so  ?  '  '  Because  I  must 
punish  the  pig's  head.'  '  But  you  just  now 

struck  G        .'     '  No .  G is  not  a  bad 

boy  to-day  :  it  is  the  pig's  head  that  has  to  be 
beaten.'  For  many  months  we  asked  him 
the  same  questions,  and  the  answers  were 

ever  the  same.     Generally  it  is  G that  is 

displeased,  but  sometimes  it  is  the  other,  and 
then  it  is  not  the  head  that  is  punished."  t 

A  certain  subject  of  general  paralysis, 
in  a  condition  bordering  on  dementia, 
used  to  be  continually  giving  himself 
advice,  or  reproaching  himself.  "  Mr. 

G ,"  he  would  say,  "  you  are  aware 

that  you  have  been  placed  in  this  institu- 
tion, and  here  you  are.  We  tell  you  that 
we  have  no  hope  whatever  of  you,"  etc. 
As  the  general  paralysis  progressed  his 
words  became  less  intelligible,  but  in  his 
raving  this  conversation  with  himself  could 
always  be  made  out.  Sometimes  he  both 
asked  the  questions  and  answered  them. 
When  dementia  had  reached  almost  the 
last  degree,  he  kept  up  the  same  practice. 
He  would  cry  out,  and  show  signs  of  agi- 
tation, but  immediately  growing  calm 
would  say  in  a  low  voice,  and  with  a  sig- 


*  Jaffe,  Archiv  fiir  Psychiatrie,  1870. 
t  Annales    Medico-Psychologiques,  vol.    VI.,  p. 
So. 


nificant  gesture,  "Won't  you  be  still; 
speak  low."  Then  he  would  answer, 
"  Yes,  I  am  going  to  speak  low."  "  Once 
we  found  him  very  busy,  making  all  the 
motions  of  tasting  [wines,  etc.],  and 
spitting  out.  We  asked  him,  '  You  are 

amusing  yourself,  Mr.  G ?  '   '  Which  ?  ' 

was  his  reply,  and  then  he  relapsed  into 
incoherence.  This  reply,  repeated  here 
literally,  may  seem  to  be  the  result  of 
chance,  buj  it  accords  so  well  with  the 
duality  so  long  observed  in  this  patient, 
that  we  have  deemed  it  worthy  of  men- 
tion." \ 

In  the  following  case  the  dissolution  of 
personality  is  presented  in  a  new  aspect : 
the  individual  has  no  consciousness  of  a 
portion  of  himself,  which  is  become  for- 
eign to  him,  or  hostile.  We  have  already, 
while  speaking  of  hallucinations,  seen  the. 
patient  coming  by  degrees  to  embody  his 
hallucinations,  and  finally  giving  them 
objective  existence.  In  the  demented  the 
case  is  more  serious.  The  acts  and 
states  that  are  perfectly  normal  for  a  per- 
son of  sound  mind  and  that  have  none  of 
the  morbid  or  imaginative  characters  of 
hallucination,  are  for  the  subject  of  de- 
mentia something  external  to  himself,  nor 
is  he  conscious  that  he  is  himself  their 
cause.  How  may  we  account  for  this 
curious  situation  without  supposing  a 
profound  change  in  the  coenassthesis,  and 
that  certain  portions  of  the  body  are  no  • 
longer  represented — or  sensed — in  the 
ruined  brain.  The  sense  o'f  sight  remains, 
as  experience  proves,  but  the  patient  sees 
his  own  movements  as  an  external,  an 
antagonistic  phenomenon  which  he  at- 
tributes neither  to  himself  nor  to  others  ; 
which  he  notices  passively  without  more 
ado,  because  his  internal  sensations  being 
effaced  and  his  reasoning  power  reduced 
to  impotence,  there  is  no  means  of  cor- 
recting this  incoordination. 

Then  we  have  the  case  of  a  general 
paralytic  in  the  period  of  dementia,  whose 
speech  was  almost  unintelligible,  and  of 


J  Descourtis,  Du  Fonctionnement  des  Operations  • 
Cdrdbrales.  et  en  particulier  de  leur  Dtdoublement 
dans  Us  Psychopathies,  Paris,  1883,  p.  33.  Possibly 
this  second  personality  which  advises  and  admon- 
ishes the  other  is  only  the  purely  passive  reproduc- 
tion of  the  phrases  addressed  to  the  patient  by  his 
physician  or  his  attendants.  It  may  be  remarked 
that  not  seldom  the  demented  speak  of  themselves 
in  the  third  person.  The  same  is  seen  in  young 
children,  and  it  has  been  accounted  for  by  the  fact 
that  their  personality  is  not  jet  formed.  In  my 
opinion  we  nave  here  simply  imitation.  The  in- 
fant is  used  to  hearing  such  remarks  as  these : 
"  Paul  has  been  bad,  he  must  get  a  whipping,"  etc. 
He  thus  learns  to  speak  of  himself  in  the  same 
way.  Is  the  use  of  the  third  person  by  some  sub. 
jects  of  dementia  a  sign  of  reversion  ? 


44 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


whose  notions  of  the  external  world  but 
littla  remained. 

"  One  day  he  was  employed  in  picking 
peas.  Though  inexpert,  and  naturally  right- 
handed,  he  employed  only  the  left  hand. 
Once  the  right  hand  came  forward  as  though 
to  take  its  share  of  the  work,  but  hardly  had 
it  touched  the  peas  when  the  other  hand 
<:ame  down  upon  it,  seized  it  and  gave  it  a 
hard  squeeze.  The  patient's  countenance 
meanwhile  bore  an  expression  of  anger  and 
he  repeated  in  a  tone  of  authority,  '  No,  no.' 
His  body  trembled  and  shook  with  passion 
and  it  was  plain  that  a  violent  struggle  was 
going  on  within  him.  On  another  occasion 
he  had  to  be  tied  down  in  an  armchair.  His 
•  countenance  grew  clouded,  and  seizing  his 
right  hand  in  his  left,  he  exclaimed : '  There ! 
It  is  all  your  fault ;  on  your  account  they 
have  tied  me  here,'  and  he  struck  the  offend- 
ing hand  again  and  again.  Nor  were  such 
•occurrences  exceptional.  Many  times  it  was 
observed  that  on  the  right  hand  quitting  its 
habitual  state  of  inactivity  the  patient 
•checked  it  with  the  left.  He  would  become 
angry  and  excited,  and  would  beat  it  with  all 
the  strength  he  had."  * 

Some  demented  patients  blame  their 
fellow  patients  for  the  noise  they  them- 
selves make,  and  complain  of  being  dis- 
turbed by  their  cries.  Finally,  we  will 
quote  the  case,  observed  by  Hunter,  of  an 
old  man,  whose  faculties  were  very  much 
impaired.  He  always  referred  to  the 
present  time  the  occurrences  of  his  early 
life.  Though  he  was  capable  of  acting 
correctly  upon  certain  impressions,  and 
•of  referring  them  to  the  portions  of  the 
body  affected  by  them,  he  habitually  at- 
tributed his  own  sensations  to  those 
around  him.  Thus  he  would  tell  his 
keeper  and  the  attendants  that  he  was 
sure  they  were  hungry  or  thirsty.  But 
when  food  or  drink  was  offered  him,  it 
became  apparent  that  this  absurd  idea 
had  been  suggested  to  him  by  his-  own 
feeling  of  hunger  and  thirst,  and  that  the 
word  they  referred  to  himself,  not  to 
•others.  He  had  frequent  violent  fits  of 
coughing,  after  each  of  which  he  would 
resume  the  thread  of  his  conversation, 
first  expressing  in  appropriate  and  sym- 
pathetic terms  his  concern  on  account  of 
his  friend's  complaint.  "  It  grieves  me," 
he  would  say,  "  to  see  you  suffering  from 
so  troublesome  and  so  distressing  a 
cough."  t 

Little  by  little  all  these  cases  steadily 
advance  toward  absolute  incoordination 
and  complete  incoherence.  They  come 


*  Descourtis,  Op.  cit.,  p.  37. 
t  Hunter,  quoted  by  Winslt 
ef  the  Brain,  p.  278. 


slow.  Obscure  Diseases 


to  resemble  congenital  imbecility  that  has 
never  been  able  to  reach  the  mean  level 
of  human  personality.  In  the  gradual 
and  progressive  coordination  which  con- 
stitutes normal  man,  the  idiot  has  met 
with  arrest  of  development.  In  him  the 
evolution  has  not  preceded  beyond  the 
early  stages :  it  has  made  provision  for 
the  physical  life  and  some  few  elementary 
manifestations  of  the  psychic  life ;  but 
the  conditions  of  an  ulterior  development 
are  lacking.  We  have  now  in  conclusion 
to  consider  this  fact  of  coordination  as 
the  groundwork  of  personality. 


But  we  must  first  attempt  a  rapid 
classification  of  the  perturbations  of  per- 
sonality of  which  we  have  given  so  many 
illustrations,  all  so  different  from  one  an- 
other that  it  might  seem  impossible  to 
refer  them  to  a  few  fundamental  types. 

Though  in  the  normal  state  the  bodily 
sense  (coenaesthesis)  undergoes  different 
changes  in  the  course  of  one's  life — in  the 
evolution  which  goes  on  from  birth  to 
death — this  change  is  usually  so  slow,  so 
continuous,  that  the  assimilation  of  new 
sensations  proceeds  little  by  little,  and 
the  transformation  is  brought  about  in- 
sensibly, so  producing  what  we  call  iden- 
tity, t.e.,  apparent  permanence  amid  inces- 
sant variations.  Nevertheless  all  serious 
maladies,  as  well  as  all  profound  changes 
(puberty,  change  of  life)  import  more  or 
less  of  indecision :  between  the  new  state 
and  the  old  there  is  not  immediate  fu- 
sion and  as  it  has  been  well  expressed, 
"  at  first  these  new  sensations  present 
themselves  to  the  old  Me  as  an  extrane- 
ous Thee."  But  should  the  general  bod- 
ily sense  (coenaersthesis)  be  modified  sud- 
denly; should  there  be  a  large  instanta- 
neous influx  of  unwonted  states,  then  the 
fundamental  element  of  the  Me  is  com- 
pletely transformed :  the  individual  is 
parted  from  his  prior  personality,  and  he 
appears  to  himself  like  another.  More 
usually  there  is  a  period  of  disturbance 
and  incertitude,  and  the  break  is  not  in- 
stantaneous. When  the  morbid  state 
has  become  fixed,  one  or  other  of  these 
three  principal  types  of  diseases  of  per- 
sonality will  be  presented : 

i.  The  general  bodily  sense  is  changed 
completely.  The  new  state  serves  as 
basis  for  a  new  psychic  life  (new  ways  of 
sensing,  perceiving,  thinking,  hence  a 
new  memory).  Of  the  former  Me  there 
remain  only  the  completely  organized 
processes  (language,  manual  dexterity, 
power  of  walking,  etc.),  activities  that  are 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


purely  automatic  and  almost  unconscious, 
faculties  that  are  like  slaves  ready  to 
serve  any  master.  But  it  must  be  re- 
marked that  in  reality  this  type  is  subject 
to  exceptions.  Sometimes  a  portion  of 
the  automatic  acquisitions  are  not  trans- 
ferred to  the  new  Me.  Again,  at  long 
intervals,  some  few  traces  of  the  old  per- 
sonality reappear,  and  produce  momen- 
tary indecision  in  the  new.  Looking  at 
the  matter  as  a  whole,  and  disregarding 
slight  deviations,  we  may  say  that  here 
we  have  an  alienation  of  personality,  the 
old  personality  having  become  alien  to 
the  new,  so  that  the  individual  has  no 
knowledge  of  his  former  life,  or,  when  he 
is  reminded  of  it,  regards  it  objectively, 
as  something  apart  from  him.  Of  this 
we  see  an  excellent  example  in  the  woman 
inmate  of  La  Salpetriere  who  ever  after  her 
forty-eighth  year  spoke  of  herself  as  "  the 
person  of  myself"  (la personne  de  moi- 
m£me).  She  gave  a  fairly  correct  account 
of  her  former  personality,  always,  how- 
ever, identifying  it  with  another.  "  La 
personne  de  moi-meme  does  not  know 
the  one  that  was  born  in  1779  " — ner 
former  personality.  *  The  case  of 
Father  Lambert  belongs  also  to  this  type. 
Hack  Tuke  tells  of  a  patient  at  the  Bed- 
lam hospital  who  had  lost  his  Me,  that  is, 
the  Me  that  was  familiar  to  him,  and 
would  often  go  looking  for  himself  under 
his  bed.  t 

2.  The  second  type  has  for  its  funda- 
mental character  alternation  of  two  per- 
sonalities, and  to  this  type  in  particular 
properly  belongs  the  current  designation 
of  double  consciousness.  As  we  have 
said,  there  are  transition  forms  intermedi- 
ate between  the  first  type  and  this  one, 
but  at  present  we  are  concerned  only  with 
what  is  clear  and  well  defined.  The 
physical  cause  of  this  alternation  is  very 
obscure,  unknown  we  may  say.  At  the 
point  where  the  new  personality  first  ap- 
pears, this  case  differs  in  nothing  from 
those  of  the  preceding  class :  the  differ- 
ence begins  when  the  first  personality 
reappears.  The  hypothesis  seems  inevi- 
table, that  in  these  subjects  (who  as  a  rule 
are  hysterical,  that  is  to  say  instable  in  a 
high  degree)  there  exist,  with  secondary 
variations,  two  distinct  habits  in  the  phys- 
ical life,  each  serving  as  groundwork  for 
a  psychic  organization.  The  hypothesis 
appears  all  the  more  probable  when  it  is 
remarked  that  the  alternation  bears  upon 


*  See  the'full  details  in  Leuret,  Frag.  Psychols 
pp.  121-124. 

^  Journal  of  Mental  Science,  April,  1883. 


character,  the  thing  that  in  personality  is- 
inmost,  and  which  most  fully  expresses- 
the  individual  nature.  (Cases  observed 
by  Azam,  Dufay,  Camuset.) 

Of  this  alternation  type  too,  we  have 
different  forms.  Sometimes  the  two  per- 
sonalities know  nothing  of  each  other 
(Macnish).  Again,  one  touches  the  whole 
life,  while  the  other  is  but  partial :  such  is 
the  case  observed  by  Azam.  In  this 
case,  the  most  instructive  of  all  because 
it  now  covers  a  period  of  twenty-eight 
years,  we  see  the  second  personality  con- 
tinually encroaching  upon  the  first.  la 
the  beginning,  the  duration  of  the  first 
personality  was  very  protracted,  but  by 
degrees  it  has  come  to  be  shorter  and 
shorter,  so  that  in  time  it  promises  to- 
disappear  entirely,  leaving  the  second  to 
stand  alone.  It  would  hence  appear  that 
this  state  of  alternation,  when  prolonged, 
tends  necessarily  to  be  converted  into  the 
first  type  :  thus  it  holds  a  place  interme- 
diate between  the  normal  state  and  com- 
plete alienation  of  personality. 

3.  The  third  type  is  more  superficial: 
I  "will  call  it  substitution  of  personality.. 
To  this_type  I  refer  the  rather  frequent 
case  of  Individuals  imagining  themselves 
to  have  changed  from  one  sex  to  the  other 
— from  man  to  woman,  and  vice  -versa, 
or  from  ragman  to  king,  etc.  The  state 
of  certain  hypnotized  subjects  already 
mentioned  may  serve  as  an  example  of 
this  whole  class.  The  alteration  is  rather 
psychical,  in  the  narrower  sense  of  the 
term,  than  organic.  I  do  not  for  a  mo- 
ment suppose  that  it  arises,  or  that  it  per- 
sists, without  material  conditions.  I  mean 
only  to  say  that  it  is  not  caused  and  main- 
tained, like  the  other  two  groups,  by  any 
profound  modification  of  the  coenassthesis, 
involving  a  complete  transformation  of 
the  personality.  It  arises  from  the  brain,, 
and  not  from  the  inner  recesses  of  the 
organism.  It  is  a  local  rather  than  a  gen- 
eral disorder — the  hypertrophy  of  a  fixed 
idea,  which  makes  impossible  that  co- 
ordination which  is  necessary  for  the 
normal  psychic  life.  Hence,  while  in 
alienation  and  alternation  of  personality 
all  conspires  and  co-operates,  exhibiting 
the  inner  unity  and  logic  of  the  organic 
processes,  here,  oftentimes,  the  one  who- 
says  he  is  a  king  admits  that  he  has  been 
a  laborer,  and  the  imaginary  millionaire 
that  once  he  earned  only  a  couple  of  francs 
a  day.  Even  outside  of  cases  where  the 
incoordination  is  manifest,  we  see  that  a 
fixed  idea  is  a  weak  excrescence  which 
does  not  at  all  imply  total  transformation 
of  the  individual. 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


This  classification,  proceeding  from  the 
gravest  forms  to  the  slightest,  does  not 
pretend  to  be  rigorously  exact.  It  may 
serve  to  array  the  facts  in  something  like 
order,  and  to  show  how  they  differ,  and 
•especially  to  show  once  again  that  per- 
sonality has  its  roots  in  the  organism,  un- 
dergoing like  it  change  and  transforma- 
tion. 


CHAPTER  VI. 
CONCLUSION. 

IT  follows  necessarily  from  the  doctrine 
•of  evolution  that  the  higher  forms  of  in- 
dividuality must  have  arisen  out  of  the 
•lower  by  aggregation  and  coalescence. 
.It  follows,  also,  that  individuality  in  its 
.highest  degree,  in  man,  must  be  the  ac- 
cumulation and  condensation  in  the  corti- 
-cal  layer  of  the  brain,  of  elemental  con- 
sciousnesses that  originally  were  auton- 
omous and  dispersed  through  the  organ- 
asm. 

The  different  types  of  psychic  individ- 
uality in  the  .animal  scale,  from  lowest  to 
•highest,  cannot  be  described  and  defined 
save  by  a  zoo-psychologist  who  makes 
his  way  cautiously  through  the  tangle  of 
facts,  often  trusting  to  conjecture.  Hence 
we  cannot  do  any  more  here  than  to  note 
-a  few  forms,  in  view  of  the  principal  aim 
•of  this  work,  which  is  to  show  that  the 
ascending  progress  toward  higher  indi- 
viduality is  ever  toward  greater  complex- 
ity and  coordination. 

There  is  no  plainer  term  than  "indi- 
vidual," when  there  is  question  of  a  man, 
a  vertebrate  animal,  even  an  insect :  but 
no  term  is  more  obscure  as  you  descend 
the  scale :  on  this  point  all  zoologists  are 
•  agreed.*  According  to  its  etymology, 
that  is  individual  \indivtduum)  which  is 
not  divided.  The  individual,  in  this  sense, 
must  be  sought  far  down  in  the  scale. 
While  there  are  no  limits  to  the  dimen- 
sions of  inorganic  compounds  (crystals), 
•"  every  protoplasmic  mass  having  a  max- 
imum diameter  of  a  few  tenths  of  a  milli- 
meter splits  up  spontaneously  into  two 
or  more  distinct  masses  equivalent  to  the 
mass  from  which  they  come,  and  which 
in  them  is  reproduced.  Hence,  proto- 
plasm does  not  exist  save  in  the  individ- 
ual state,  having  a  limited  magnitude 


*  See  in  particular  Hackel.  General  Morphology 
I.,  p.  241  (French  trans.)  ;  Gegenbaur,  Comparativt 
Anatomy,  p.  24  et  seq.  (French  trans.);  Espinas. 

-Socie'tes  A  nimales,  ad  ed..  Appendix  II.;  Pouchet 

-Revue  Scientifique,  10  Feb.,  1883. 


and  hence  it  is  that  all  living  things  are 
necessarily  made  up  of  cells."  f  Life  never 
attains  any  considerable  augmentation 
except  through  the  indefinite  repetition  of 
this  fundamental  theme,  by  the  aggrega- 
tion of  an  infinite  number  of  these  minute 
elements,  true  types  of  individuality. 

The  living,  homogeneous  matter  which 
constitutes  these  elemental,  primordial  ' 
individualities,  expands,  contracts,  draws 
itself  out  in  slender  filaments,  creeps  up 
to  substances  capable  of  affording  it  nour- 
ishment, involves  them  in  its  own  sub- 
stance, decomposes  them,  and  assimilates 
their  debris.  We  hear  of  "  rudiments  of 
consciousness  "  in  this  connection — of  a 
sort  of  will  reaching  its  determinations 
through  external  stimulations,  and  of 
vague  wants.  One  may  employ  the  term 
for  want  of  a  better,  but  let  him  not 
forget  that  it  has  for  us  no  precise  signif- 
ication. In  an  homogeneous  mass  pre- 
senting not  the  slightest  trace  of  differ- 
entiation, and  in  which  the  essential  vital 
properties  (nutrition,  generation)  are  in  a 
diffused,  indistinct  state,  the  sole  repre- 
sentative (and  it  is  a  lowly  one  indeed) 
of  psychic  activity  is  the  irritability  com- 
mon to  all  living  things,  and  which  will 
later,  in  the  course  of  evolution,  become 
general  sensibility,  special  sensibility,  and 
so  on.  May  we  call  it  a  consciousness  ? 
The  first  step  toward  a  higher  individ- 
uality consists  of  an  association  of  indi- 
viduals almost  completely  independent  of 
one  another.  "  The  forced  contiguity, 
the  continuity  of  tissues,  the  nearly  con- 
stant unity  of  the  digestive  apparatus,  es- 
tablish between  them  a  number  of  rela- 
tions, and  these  prevent  the  several  indi- 
viduals from  remaining  altogether  stran- 
gers to  what  is  taking  place  among  their 
next  neighbors  :  such  is  the  case  with 
sponges,  colonies  of  Hydra  polypes,  co- 
rolla polypes,  bryozoa,  and  some  colonies 
of  ascidia."  \  But  this  is,  properly  speak- 
ing, only  a  juxtaposition  of  a  number 
of  contiguous,  homogeneous  conscious- 
nesses, having  between  them  nothing  in 
common  save  the  limitation  of  their  ag- 
gregate in  space. 

The  rise  of  the  colony  individuality,  and 
of  the  colony  consciousness  marks  a  great 
step  toward  coordination.  The  colony, 
made  up  of  elemental  individuals,  has  a 
tendency  toward  transformation  into  an 


t  Perrier,  Les  Colonies  A  nimales  et  la  Formation 
des  Organismes.  Paris,  1881,  p.  41.  According  to 
Cattaneo,  Le  Colonie  Lineari  e  la  Morfologia  dei 
Molluschi,  the  division  is  carried  farther  still. 

%  Perrier,  Op.  cit.,  p.  774  ;  Espinas,  Socie'tes  An- 
\  imalcs,  section  2. 


THE  DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


47 


individuality  of  a  higher  order,  in  which 
there  shall  be  division  of  labor.  In  colo- 
nies of  Hydractinia  we  find  seven  differ- 
ent kinds  of  individuals  —the  nurses,  the 
sexed  individuals  (male,  female),  those 
which  capture  prey,  etc.  In  the  Siphon- 
ophora  and  allied  types,  the  faculty  of  lo- 
comotion is  perfectly  centralized  :  the  in- 
dividuals seem  independent  as  long  as  the 
animal  lets  the  common  axis  float  about, 
on  which  they  are  implanted  :  but  when 
any  danger  impends,  or  if  the  animal  is 
to  perform  any  complex  movement,  then 
the  axis  contracts,  carrying  with  it  all  the 
polypes.  The  Prysalia  knows  how  to 
quicken  or  to  slacken  its  movement,  can 
at  will  rise  above  the  surface,  or  descend 
below  it,  can  move  straight  ahead,  or  turn 
about,  all  its  organ-individuals  concurring 
to  perform  these  complicated  acts.  The 
wandering  life  of  these  creatures,  as  Per- 
rier  remarks,  favors  the  development  of 
individuality. 

"  From  it  necessarily  results  greater  inter- 
dependence of  the  individuals;  closer  ties 
are  formed  between  them  ;  impressions  pro- 
duced upon  any  part  of  the  whole  must  nec- 
essarily be  transmitted  to  the  locomotive  air- 
bladders  ;  and  the  movements  of  these  must 
needs  be  coordinated,  else  all  is  disorder. 
Hence  arises  a  sort  of  'colony  conscious- 
ness,' and  this  tends  to  produce  a  new  unity, 
tQ  form  what  we  call  an  individual."  * 

In  other  colonies  the  common  con- 
sciousness has  its  rise  in  a  different  way. 
In  Botrylus,  a  genus  of  Tunicata,  there 
is  a  common  orifice,  which  is  the  cloaca 
around  which  all  the  individuals  are  ar- 
ranged. Each  of  these  sends  out  in  the 
direction  of  the  cloaca  a  tongue -shaped 
process  provided  with  nerves,  whereby 
communication  can  be  established  per- 
manently between  all  the  members  of  a 
group,  t 

"  But  it  by  no  means  follows  that  because  a 
colony  gains  the  notion  of  its  existence  as  a 
colony,  therefore  each  of  the  individuals  com 
posing  it  loses  its  particular  consciousness 
On  the  contrary,  each  of  these  continues  to 
act  as  if  it  stood  alone.  In  some  star-fishes, 
each  severed  branch  keeps  moving  on,  or 
turns  aside,  as  the  occasion  may  require :  in 
short,  appears  to  be  conscious.  Neverthe 
less,  the  consciousness  of  each  of  the  rays  is 
subordinate  to  the  consciousness  of  the  star- 
fish, as  is  proved  by  the  harmony  between 
the  movements  of  the  several  parts  when  the 
creature  changes  position."  J 


*  Perrier,  Op  cit.,  p.  232. 
t  Id.  ibid.,  p.  771. 
3  Ibid.,  pp.  772,  773. 


It  is  difficult  for  man,  in  whom  central- 
zation  is  carried  to  so  high  a  degree,  to 
lave  anything  like  a  clear  idea  of  a  mode 
of  psychic  existence  in  which  partial  indi- 
vidualities co-exist  with  a  collective  indi- 
viduality. We  might  find  some  analogon 
n  certain  morbid  states.  So  too  it  might 
3e  said  that  the  human  individual  has 
consciousness  of  himself  both  as  a  person 
and  as  a  member  of  the  body  social. 
But  I  do  not  wish  to  make  comparisons 
that  might  be  contested.  But  looking  at 
the  question  objectively  and  from  with- 
out, we  see  that  this  "  colony  conscious- 
ness," however  imperfectly  coordinated, 
however  intermittent  it  may  be  in  the  be- 
ginning, has  profound  significance  as  re- 
gards evolution.  It  is  the  germ  of  the 
higher  individualities,  of  personality.  It 
will,  little  by  little,  rise  to  the  highest 
grade,  turning  to  its  own  advantage  all 
these  special  individualities.  In  the  po- 
litical order  we  see  a  like  evolution  in 
thoroughly  centralized  governments. 
There  the  central  power,  at  first  very 
weak  and  hardly  recognized,  oftentimes 
inferior  to  that  of  the  constituent  parts, 
or  provinces,  gains  strength  at  their  ex- 
pense, and  by  degrees  absorbs  them. 

The  development  of  the  nervous  sys- 
tem, which  is  the  coordinating  agency 
par  excellence,  is  the  visible  sign  of  an 
advance  toward  a  more  complex  and  a 
more  harmonious  individuality.  But  this 
centralization  is  not  brought  about  in  a 
moment.  In  the  Annelida  the  brain-like 
ganglia  which  send  out  nerves  to  the  or- 
gans of  sense  seem  to  perform  the  same 
functions  as  the  brain  in  vertebrates .  but 
these  ganglia  are  by  no  means  fully  or- 
ganized. The  psychological  independ- 
ence of  the  several  rings  is  very  evident. 
"  Consciousness,  while  pretty  distinct  in 
the  brain,  seems  to  grow  fainter  in  pro- 
portion as  the  number  of  rings  is  greater. 
Some  species  of  Eunice,  which  often  at- 
tain a  length  of  five  or  six  feet,  bite  the 
posterior  part  of  their  own  bodies  with- 
out appearing  to  notice  it.  To  this  dim- 
inution of  consciousness  no  doubt  we 
must  attribute  the  fact  that  Annelids 
kept  in  captivity,  under  unfavorable  con- 
ditions, readily  prey  upon  themselves." 
In  linear  colonies,  the  individual  that 
holds  the  front  position,  since  it  has  to 
give  the  initiative,  to  advance  or  to  re- 
treat, to  modify  the  gait  of  the  colony 
which  it  draws  after  itself,  becomes  a 
head ;  but  the  term  head  is  here  em- 
ployed by  zoologists  analogically  only, 
and  we  must  not  suppose  it  to  have  the 
same  meaning  as  when  we  speak  of  the 


48 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


head  of  an  insect  or  of  any  articulate  an- 
imal. The  individuality  it  represents  is 
so  indefinite  that  in  certain  annulates, 
made  up  of  forty  rings  or  more,  we  may 
see  the  head  of  a  sexed  individual  ap- 
pearing at  the  level  of  the  third  ring,  ac- 
quiring tentacles  and  antennas,  then  sepa- 
rating itself  from  the  original  individual, 
and  setting  up  for  itself.* 

For  details  the  reader  is  referred  to 
special  treatises.  As  regards  the  higher 
animals,  there  is  no  need  to  dwell  upon 
the  subject :  in. them  individuality,  in  the 
received  meaning  of  the  term,  is  estab- 
lished, being  represented  by  the  brain, 
which  becomes  more  and  more  predom- 
inant. This  excursus  over  the  domain 
of  zoology  will  not  have  been  in  vain  if  it 
shall  have  taught  us  that  this  coordina- 
tion, of  which  we  have  had  so  much  to 
say,  is  not  a  mere  subjective  view,  but  on 
the  contrary  an  objective  fact,  visible  and 
tangible ;  and  that,  in  the  words  of  Es- 
pinas,  the  psychic  individuality  and  the 
physiological  individuality  are  parallel — 
that  consciousness  becomes  unified  or 
diffused  with  the  organism.  Neverthe- 
less the  term  "  consciousness,"  or  "  psy- 
chic individuality  "  is  highly  ambiguous. 
If  the  psychic  individuality  is,  as  we 
maintain,  simply  the  subjective  expression 
of  the  organism,  then  the  farther  we  go 
from  the  human  type,  the  greater  is  the 
obscurity  that  surrounds  us.  Conscious- 
ness is  a  function  that  may  be  compared 
to  generation,  inasmuch  as  they  both  ex- 
press the  whole  individual.  Grant  that 
the  most  elementary  organisms  possess  a 
consciousness,  and  that  like  all  their  vital 
properties,  and  generation  in  particular, 
it  is  diffused  throughout  their  physical 
structure:  now  as  regards  generation, 
we  see  that  this  function,  as  the  animal 
grade  rises,  becomes  localized,  and  ap- 
propriates a  part  of  the  organism,  and 
that  this  part,  after  countless  modifica- 
tions, becomes,  with  respect  to  that  func- 
tion and  that  alone,  the  representative  of 
the  whole  organism.  The  psychic  func- 
tion takes  a  like  course.  In  its  highest 
grade  it  is  strictly  localized,  and  has  ap- 
propriated to  itself  a  part  of  the  organ- 
ism which  becomes,  for  that  function  and 
for  it  only,  the  representative  of  the 
whole  organism.  In  virtue  of  a  long  se- 
ries of  successive  transfers  of  function, 
the  brain  of  the  higher  animals  now  con- 
centrates in  itself  most  of  the  psychic  ac- 
tivity of  the  colony  :  it  has  been  entrusted, 
so  to  speak,  with  one  function  after  an- 


other, till  at  last  its  associates  have  made 
complete  abdication  in  its  favor.t  But 
take  at  random  any  species  of  animal, 
and  who  shall  say  to  just  what  degree 
this  delegation  of  psychic  functions  has 
in  it  proceeded.  Physiologists  have  made 
many  experiments  upon  the  spinal  cord 
in  frogs  .  is  its  psychic  value  relatively 
the  same  in  man  ?  We  may  well  doubt 
it. 


Return  we  to  man,  and  let  us  consider 
first  his  purely  physical  personality.  \Ve 
will  for  the  nonce  eliminate  all  states  of 
consciousness,  and  will  consider  only  the 
material  groundwork  of  personality. ' 

i.  There  is  no  need  to  show  at.  length 
the  very  close  relations  subsisting  be- 
tween all  the  organs  of  the  so-called  veg- 
etative life — the  heart,  vessels,  lungs,  in- 
testinal canal,  liver,  kidneys,  etc. — how- 
ever foreign  they  may  appear  to  be  one 
to  another,  and  however  much  engrossed 
with  their  several  tasks.  The  multitudi- 
nous agents  in  this  coordination  are  cen- 
tripetal and  centrifugal  nerves  of  the 
great  sympathetic  and  of  the  cerebro-spi- 
nal  system  (the  difference  between  these 
two  tends  to  disappear)  together  with 
their  ganglia.  Is  their  activity  restricted 
to  the  simple  molecular  disturbance 
which  constitutes  the  nervous  influx,  or 
has  it  also  a  psychic,  conscious  effect  ? 
No  doubt  it  has  such  an  effect,  in  morbid 
cases:  it  is  then  felt.  In  the  normal 
state  it  simply  calls  forth  that  vague  con- 
sciousness of  life  of  which  we  have  so 
often  spoken.  But  vague  or  not,  that  is 
of  no  importance.  May  we  maintain  that 
these  nerve  actions,  which  represent  the 
totality  of  life,  are  the  fundamental  facts 
of  personality,  and  that,  as  such,  their 
value  is,  so  to  speak,  in  inverse  ratio  to 
their  psychological  intensity?  They  do 
far  more  than  just  to  call  forth  a  few 
transitory,  superficial  states  of  conscious- 
ness ;  they  shape  the  nerve  centers,  give 
them  tone,  give  them  a  habit.  Consider 
for  a  moment  the  enormous  power  of 
these  actions  (feeble  though  they  appear) 
going  on  unceasingly,  untiringly,  repeat- 
ing forever  the  self-same  theme  with  few 
variations.  Why  should  they  not  result 
in  forming  organic  states,  that  is  (as  im- 
plied in  the  definition  of  "  organic  ")  sta- 
ble and  continuous  states  which  shall 
represent,  anatomically  and  physiologi- 
cally, the  inward  life  ?  Of  course  all  this 
does  not  depend  on  the  viscera  alone,  for 


*Perrier,  Op.  cit.,  pp.  448,  491,  501. 


t  Espinas,  Let  Societes  Animates,  p.  520. 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


49 


the  nerve  centers  too  have  their  own 
proper  constitution,  in  virtue  of  which 
they  react.  They  are  not  merely  recep- 
tive but  incitative  also,  and  they  are  not 
to  be  separated  from  the  organs  they 
represent,  and  with  which  they  form  one 
whole  :  between  both  there  is  reciprocity 
of  action. 

Where  do  all  these  nerve  actions  come 
together  and  meet  ?  where  do  we  find 
the  resum£  of  the  organic  life  ?  We 
know  not.  Ferrier  thinks  that  the  occipi- 
tal lobes  have  a  special  relation  to  the 
sensibility  of  the  viscera,  constituting  the 
anatomical  substratum  of  their  sensa- 
tions. Taking  this  view  simply  as  a 
working  hypothesis,  it  follows  that  by 
successive  stages,  by  one  transfer  after 
another,  the  visceral  life  has  at  last  found 
here  its  ultimate  representation  ;  that  it 
is  writ  here  in  a  language  unknown  to 
us  indeed  but  which  expresses  the  in- 
ward individuality  and  that  only,  to  the 
exclusion  of  all  other  individuality.  But 
in  truth  whether  this  anatomic  represen- 
tation exists  in  the  occipital  lobes  or 
elsewhere,  and  whether  it  be  localized  or 
diffused,  does  not  affect  our  conclusion, 
provided  only  it  exists.  I  have  the  less 
hesitation  in  dwelling  on  this  subject, 
because  this  coordination  of  the  multi- 
tudinous nervous  actions  of  organic  life 
is  the  groundwork  of  the  physical  and 
psychical  personality,  since  all  the  other 
coordinations  are  based  upon  this ;  be- 
cause this  coordination  is  the  inner  man, 
the  material  form  of  his  subjectivity,  the 
ultimate  reason  of  his  feeling  and  action, 
the  source  of  his  instincts,  sentiments 
and  passions,  and  in  the  language  of  the 
mediaeval  schoolmen,  his  principle  of  in- 
dividuation. 

To  pass  now  from  the  inward  to  the 
outward,  the  periphery  of  the  body  forms 
a  surface  over  which  the  nerve  terminals 
are  unequally  distributed.  Whether  few 
or  many,  the  nerve  filaments  receive  and 
transmit  from  the  different  parts  of  the 
body  impressions  (that  is  to  say,  molecu- 
lar disturbances)  ;  are  centralized  in  the 
spinal  cord,  and  thence  pass  to  the  me- 
dulla oblongata  and  the  pons  Varolii. 
There  a  new  contingent  is  added — that 
from  the  cranial  nerves:  and  now  the 
transmission  of  sensorial  impressions  is 
complete.  We  must  riot  overlook  the 
centrifugal  nerves,  which  act  in  a  simi- 
lar way,  but  in  the  direction  of  an  in- 
creasing decentralization.  In  short,  the 
spinal  cord,  which  is  a  string  of  super- 
posed ganglia,  and  more  particularly  the 
medulla  oblongata  with  its  special  centers 


(of  respiration,  phonation,  deglutition 
etc.),  while  they  are  all  organs  of  trans- 
mission, represent  the  reduction  to  unity 
of  a  vast  multitude  of  nervous  actions 
diffused  throughout  the  organism 

At  the  point  we  have  reached  the 
question  becomes  full  of  obscurity.  The 
mesencephalon  seems  to  possess  a  more 
complex  function  than  the  medulla  ob- 
longata, and  that  a  more  complex  func- 
tion than  the  spinal  cord.  The  corpora 
striata  would  seem  to  be  the  center  in 
which  are  organized  the  habitual  or  au- 
tomatic actions,  and  the  optic  thalami 
to  be  the  point  where  the  sense  impres- 
sions are  reflexed  in  movements. 

However  this  may  be,  we  know  that  the 
fasciculated  portion  of  the  crus  cerebri, 
a  bundle  of  white  brain  substance  con- 
tinuous with  the  peduncle,  traverses  the 
opto-striate  bodies,  penetrating  into  the 
strait  between  the  optic  thalami  and  the 
lenticular  nucleus,  and  that  it  branches 
out  in  the  hemisphere,  forming  the  cor- 
ona radiata  of  Reil.  It  is  a  pathway  over 
which  pass  all  the  sensorial  and  motor 
fibers  running  to  or  from  the  opposite 
side  of  the  body.  The  anterior  portion 
contains  only  motor  fibers.  The  pos- 
terior portion  contains  all  the  sensorial 
fibers,  a  certain  number  of  motor  fibers, 
and  all  the  fibers  coming  from  the  sense 
organs.  The  bundle  of  sensorial  fibers 
having  received  its  full  complement, 
divides  into  two  :  one  portion  ascends  to 
the  fronto-parietal  convolution  ;  the  other 
is  turned  back  to  the  occipital  lobe,  and 
the  bundle  of  motor  fibers  is  distributed 
through  the  gray  cortex  of  the  motor 
zones. 

These  details,  tiresome  as  they  will  be 
to  the  reader  despite  their  brevity,  show 
the  close  interdependence  of  the  different 
parts  of  the  body  and  the  cerebral  hem- 
ispheres. Here  the  study  of  the  localiza- 
tion of  functions,  though  not  yet  carried 
very  far,  has  settled  a  few  points,  as  that 
there  is  a  motor  zone  (formed  of  the  as- 
cending frontal  and  ascending  parietal 
convolutions,  the  paracentral  lobe,  and 
the  base  of  the  frontal  convolutions)  in 
which  are  represented  the  movements  of 
the  different  parts  of  the  body ;  and  that 
there  is  a  sensitive  zone  far  less  clearly 
defined  (embracing  the  occipital  lobes 
and  the  temporo-parietal  region).  As 
for  the  frontal  lobes,  we  have  no  definite 
knowledge  with  regard  to  them,  but  we 
may  in  passing  notice  the  hypothesis  re- 
cently offered  by  Dr.  Hughlings  Jackson 
that  they  represent,  with  respect  to  the 
other  centers,  combinations  and  cobrdi- 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


nations  of  a  more  complex   kind,  being 
thus  a  representation  of  representations.  * 

We  cannot  notice  past  and  present  dis- 
cussions upon  the  physiological  and  psy- 
chological role  of  these  centers  :  to  do  so 
would  require  a  volume.  But  we  may 
say  that  the  cortical  substance  represents 
all  the  forms  of  nerve  activity — visceral 
muscular,  tactile,  visual,  auditory,  olfac- 
tory, gustatory,  motor,  significatory. 
This  representation  is  not  direct.  An 
impression  does  not  go  from  the  pe- 
riphery of  the  brain  as  a  telegram  goes 
from  one  office  to  another  near  by.  In 
one  case,  where  the  spinal  cord  was  re- 
duced to  the  size  of  a  goosequill  and  the 
gray  substance  was  extremely  small,  the 
subject  possessed  sensation. 

But  though  indirect  or  even  doubly 
indirect,  this  representation  is,  or  may  be, 
a  total  representation.  Between  the 
equivalents  of  these  nervous  actions  dis- 
tributed throughout  the  body  there  exist 
innumerable  connections — co  mmissures 
between  the  two  hemispheres  and  between 
the  several  centers  of  each  hemisphere — 
some  of  them  innate,  the  others  estab- 
lished by  experience,  having  all  possible 
degrees,  from  highly  stable  to  highly 
instable.  The  physical  personality,  or  in 
more  precise  language,  its  ultimate  rep- 
resentation, thus  appears  to  us  not  as 
a  central  point  whence  all  radiates  and 
where  all  converges — Descartes's  pineal 
gland — but  as  a  wonderfully  complex 
net-work  where  histology,  anatomy  and 
physiology  are  baffled  every  moment. 

From  this  very  imperfect  sketch  the 
reader  may  see  that  the  terms  consen- 
sus, coordination,  are  not  mere  flatus 
vocis,  abstractions,  but  that  they  truly 
express  facts. 


Let  us  reinstate  now  the  psychic  ele- 
ment hitherto  eliminated,  and  note  the  re- 
sult. It  must  be  remembered  that  ac- 
cording to  our  view  consciousness  is  not 
an  entity,  but  a  sum  of  states  each  of 
which  is  a  specific  phenomenon  depend- 
ent on  certain  conditions  of  the  brain's 
activity ;  that  it  is  present  when  these  are, 
is  lacking  when  they  are  absent,  disap- 
pears when  they  disappear.  It  follows 
that  the  sum  of  a  man's  states  of  con- 
sciousness is  far  inferior  to  the  sum  of  his 
nerve-actions  (that  is,  his  reflex  actions 
of  every  kind,  from  the  simplest  to  the 
most  composite).  A  period  of  five  min- 


*  Lectures  an  the  Evolution  and  Dissolution  of  the 
Nervous  System,  1884. 


utes  may  embrace  a  multitude  of  sensa- 
tions, feelings,  images,  ideas,  acts,  and  it 
is  possible  to  determine  the  number  of 
these  with  some  degree  of  exactness. 
During  the  same  lapse  of  time  there  will 
be  a  much  larger  number  of  nerve-ac- 
tions. Hence  the  conscious  personality 
cannot  represent  all  that  is  going  on  in 
the  nerve  centers  :  it  is  only  an  abstract, 
an  epitome  of  them.  This  follows  nec- 
essarily from  the  nature  of  our  mental 
constitution  :  our  states  of  consciousness 
range  themselves  in  time,  not  in  space, 
and  according  to  one  dimension,  not  all 
dimensions.  By  a  fusion  and  an  integra- 
tion of  simple  states  are  formed  highly 
complex  states,  and  these  enter  into  the 
series  as  if  they  were  simple :  they  may 
in  some  measure  co-exist'  for  a  little  time ; 
but  after  all  the  compass  (or  extension) 
of  consciousness  [Umfang  des  Bewusst- 
seins],  and  particularly  the  compass  of 
clear  consciousness,  is  always  very  lim- 
ited. Hence  we  cannot  regard  the  con- 
scious personality,  in  its  relation  to  the 
objective,  cerebral  personality,  as  a  trac- 
ing which  corresponds  exactly  with  the 
drawing  from  which  it  is  copied:  it 
rather  resembles  a  topographical  sketch 
as  related  to  the  face  of  the  country  it 
represents. 

Why  do  some  nerve-actions  (and 
which  ones?)  become  conscious?  To 
answer  this  question  would  be  to  solve 
the  problem  of  the  conditions  of  con- 
sciousness :  but  these,  as  we  have  said,  are 
in  great  part  unknown.  There  has  also 
been  much  discussion  as  to  the  part 
played  in  the  genesis  of  consciousness  oy 
the  five  layers  of  the  cortical  cells,  but  on 
this  point  we  have  nothing  save  pure 
hypotheses.  These  we  need  not  con- 
sider here,  for  it  cannot  be  of  any  advan- 
tage to  psychology  to  rest  its  conclusions 
upon  an  insecure  physiological  founda- 
tion. We  know  that  states  of  conscious- 
ness, always  unstable,  evoke  and  sup- 
plant one  another.  This  is  the  result  of 
a  transmission  of  force,  and  of  a  con- 
flict among  forces ;  and,  for  us,  it  is  not 
a  conflict  between  states  of  consciousness, 
as  commonly  supposed,  but  between  the 
nervous  elements  which  underlie  and 
produce  them.  These  associations  and 
these  antagonisms,  which  have  been  the 
object  of  deep  study  in  our  day,  do  not 
however  belong  to  the  present  inquiry : 
we  must  go  further  back  and  consider  the 
conditions  of  their  organic  unity.  For 
states  of  consciousness  are  no  ignes 
fatui,  now  flaring,  anon  extinguished  ; 
there  is  something  which  unites  them) 


THE  DISEASES  OF  PERSONALITY. 


and  which  is  the  subjective  expression  of 
their  objective  coordination :  in  this  we 
find  the  ultimate  ground  of  their  continu- 
ity. Though  we  have  already  studied 
this  point,  it  is  so  important  that  I  have 
no  hesitation  about  returning  to  it  and 
viewing  it  under  another  aspect. 

Be  it  remarked  that  we  are  not  speak- 
ing just  now  of  self-conscious  personality, 
but  of  that  spontaneous,  natural  sense  of 
•our  own  being  which  exists  in  every  nor- 
mal individual.  Every  one  of  my  states 
of  consciousness  possesses  the  twofold 
character  of  being  such  or  such  a  state, 
and  of  being  mine ;  pain  is  not  simply 
pain,  but  my  pain ;  seeing  a  tree  is  not 
simply  seeing  it  but  my  seeing  it.  Each 
one  has  a  mark  whereby  it  is  known  to 
me  as  mine  only,  and  without  which  it 
seems  foreign  to  me,  as  in  some  morbid 
cases  already  referred  to.  This  mark 
common  to  all  my  states  of  consciousness 
is  a  sign  of  their  common  origin,  and 
whence  can  it  come  if  not  from  the  organ- 
ism ?  Suppose  we  were  able  to  obliterate 
in  a  man  the  five  special  senses  and  with 
them  their  entire  psychological  product, 
such  as  perceptions,  images,  ideas,  asso- 
ciations of  ideas  with  one  another  and  of 
emotions  with  ideas.  In  that  case  there 
would  still  remain  the  inward,  organic  life 
with  its  proper  sensibility  to  the  state  and 
f  unctionment  of  each  organ,  to  the  gen- 
eral or  local  variations  of  the  organs,  and 
to  the  elevation  or  the  depression  of  the 
vital  tone.  The  state  of  a  man  who  is 
sound  asleep  pretty  fully  realizes  these 
conditions.  If  now  we  try  the  opposite 
hypothesis,  we  find  it  absurd,  contradic- 
tory. We  cannot  imagine  to  ourselves 
the  special  senses,  together  with  the  psy- 
chic life  which  they  sustain,  isolated  from 
the  general  sensibility  and  suspended  in 
•vaciio.  None  of  our  sense-apparatus  is 
an  abstraction  :  there  is  no  such  thing  as 
a  visual  or  an  auditive  apparatus  in  gen- 
eral, as  they  are  described  in  physiologi- 
cal treatises,  but  only  a  concrete,  invidid- 
ual  apparatus,  and  never,  save  perhaps 
sometimes  in  twins,  are  these  apparatus 
alike  in  two  individuals.  Nor  is  this  all, 
for  not  only  is  the  sense  apparatus  of 
each  individual  peculiarly  constituted — a 
peculiarity  directly  and  necessarily  com- 
municated to  all  its  products — but  it  is  at 
all  times  and  in  every  respect  dependent 
on  the  organic  life — on  the  circulation, 
digestion,  respiration,  secretion  and  so 
forth.  These  several  expressions  of  the 
individuality  attach  to  every  perception, 
emotion,  idea,  and  become  one  with 


them,  like  the  harmonics  with  the  fun- 
damental  tone  in  music.  The  personal 
and  possessive  character  of  our  states  of 
consciousness  therefore  is  not,  as  some 
authors  have  held,  the  result  of  a  more  or 
less  explicit  judgment  affirming  them  to 
be  mine  at  the  instant  they  arise.  The 
personal  character  is  not  superadded, 
but  inherent :  it  is  an  integral  part  of 
the  fact,  and  results  from  its  physiologi- 
gal  conditions.  We  do  not  find  out  the 
origin  of  a  state  of  consciousness  by  ob- 
serving itself  alone,  for  it  cannot  be  at 
once  effect  and  cause,  subjective  state 
and  nerve-action. 

The  pathological  facts  confirm  this 
conclusion.  As  we  have  seen,  the  con- 
sciousness of  selfhood  rises  or  falls  ac- 
cording to  the  state  of  the  organism,  and 
hence  some  patients  declare  that  their 
"  sensations  are  changed  " — the  explana- 
tion being  that  in  their  case  the  fundamen- 
tal tone  has  no  longer  the  same  harmon- 
ics. So  too  we  have  seen  states  of  con- 
sciousness lose  by  degrees  their  personal 
character,  becoming  for  the  individual  ob- 
jective and  extraneous.  Can  such  facts 
be  accounted  for  on  any  other  theory? 

John  Stuart  Mill,  in  an  oft-quoted 
passage,  asks  what  is  the  bond,  what  the 
"organic  union"  between  one  state  of 
consciousness  and  another — the  common 
and  lasting  element ;  and  his  conclusion 
is  that  we  can  affirm  nothing  definitively 
of  mind  but  states  of  consciousness.  • 
That  is  doubtless  so  if  we  confine  our- 
selves to  pure  ideology.  But  a  group; 
of  effects  is  not  a  cause,  and  however 
minutely  we  study  these,  unless  we  go. 
deeper  our  labor  is  incomplete — that  is, 
unless  we  descend  into  that  obscure  region 
where,  as  Taine  says,  "  innumerable  cur- 
rents are  ever  circulating  quite  beyond 
our  consciousness."  The  organic  nexus 
desiderated  by  Mill  exists  by  definition, 
so  to  speak,  in  the  organism. 

The  organism  and  the  brain,  its 
supreme  representation,  is  the  real  per- 
sonality, containing  in  itself  the  remi- 
niscence of  what  we  have  been  and  the 
possibilities  of  what  we  shall  be.  On  it  is 
inscribed  the  entire  individual  character 
with  all  its  aptitudes,  active  or  passive,  its 
sympathies  and  antipathies,  its  genius 
and  talent  or  its  stupidity,  its  virtues  and 
its  vices,  its  sloth  or  its  activity.  What 
comes  forth  in  the  consciousness  is  little 
compared  with  what  lies  hid  though  still 
active.  The  conscious  personality  is  only 
a  small  part  of  the  physical  personality. 

Hence  the  unity  of  the  Me  is  not,  as 


THE   DISEASES   OF   PERSONALITY. 


taught  by  the  spiritualists,*  the  unity  of  one 
entity  manifested  in  multiple  phenomena, 
but  the  coordination  of  a  number  of 
states  that  are  continually  arising,  and  its 
one  basis  is  the  vague  sense  of  our  own 
bodies— coenaesthesis.  This  unity  does 
not  proceed  from  above  downward,  but 
from  beneath  upward  :  it  is  not  an  initial 
but  a  terminal  point. 

Does  such  perfect  unity  exist  ?  In  the 
strict  sense,  clearly  not.  In  the  relative 
sense  it  is  seen,  but  rarely  and  momen- 
tarily. In  the  skilled  marksman  as  he 
takes  aim,  or  in  the  surgeon  as  he  is  per- 
forming an  operation,  there  is  a  converg- 
ence of  all  the  faculties  mental  and  physi- 
cal. But  observe  the  result :  in  such  cir- 
cumstances the  sense  of  the  real  person- 
ality disappears,  and  thus  we  see  that 
perfect  unity  of  consciousness  and  the 
sense  of  the  personality  are  mutually  ex- 
clusive. And  we  may  reach  the  same 
conclusion  by  another  route.  The  Me  is 
a  coordination.  It  oscillates  between 
two  extreme  points — perfect  unity  and 
absolute  incoordination — else  it  ceases 
to  be ;  and  we  find  all  the  intermediate 
degrees  exemplified  without  any  line  of 


*  Opposed  to  Materialists. 


demarkation  between  normal  and  abnor- 
mal, health  and  disease,  the  one  trench- 
ing upon  the  other.* 

The  unity  of  the  Me  then,  in  the  psy- 
chological sense,  is  the  cohesion,  for  a 
given  time,  of  a  certain  number  of  clear 
states  of  consciousness,  accompanied  by 
others  less  clear  and  by  a  multitude  of 
physiological  states,  which,  though  unac- 
companied by  consciousness,  are  not  less 
effective  than  the  conscious  states,  and 
even  more  effective.  Unity  means  co- 
ordination. The  gist  of  the  whole  matter 
is  that  the  consensus  of  the  consciousness, 
being  subordinate  to  the  consensus  of 
the  organism,  the  problem  of  the  unity  of 
the  Me  is,  in  the  last  resort,  a  biological 
problem,  and  it  is  for  biology  to  explain, 
if  it  can,  the  genesis  of  organisms  and 
the  solidarity  of  their  parts :  the  psycho- 
logical explanation  can  come  only  then. 
This  we  endeavored  to  show  in  detail  by 
analyzing  and  discussing  morbid  cases. 
Here  then  our  task  ends. 


t  Even  in  the  normal  state  the  coordination  is 
often  so  lax  that  several  series  co-exist  separately. 
One  may  walk  about,  or  perform  manual  work  with; 
a  vague,  intermittent  consciousness  of  his  move- 
ments, at  the  same  time  singing  and  musing  ;  but 
as  he  begins  to  think  more  intently,  he  stops  sing- 
ing. • 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

CHAP.  I.  INTRODUCTION i 

CHAP.  II.  ORGANIC  DISTURBANCE 7 

CHAP.  III.  AFFECTIVE  DISTURBANCE 18 

CHAP.  IV.  INTELLECTIVE  DISTURBANCE 30 

CHAP.  V.  DISSOLUTION  OF  PERSONALITY 42 

CHAP.  VI.  CONCLUSION 46 


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THE 


POPULAR  SCIENCE. 

Containing  the  works  of  the  foremost  scientific  writers  of  the  age—  The  Great 
Classics  of  Modern  Thought.—  Strong  meat  for  them  that  are  of  full  age. 

Price,  Fifteen  Cents  per  number,  except  as  otherwise  noted  in  this  catalogue. 


No.  1. 


LIGHT    SCIENCE    FOR    LEISURE    HOURS.-A  Series  of  Familiar 
Essays    on    Scientific    Subjects,   Natural    Phenomena,  Ac. -By 

RICHARD  A.  PROCTOR,  B.A.,  Camb.,  F.R.A.S.,  author  of  "The  Sun,"  "Other 
Worlds  than  Ours,"  "Saturn,"  &c. 


Strange  Discoveries   respecting 

the  Aurora. 
The  Earth  a  Magnet. 
Our  Chief  Timepiece  losing 

Time. 

Encke  the  Astronomer. 
Venus  on  the  Sun's  Face. 
Recent  Solar  Researches. 
Government  Aid  to  Science. 
American  Alms  for  British 

Science. 

The  Secret  of  the  North  Pole. 
Is  the  Gulf  Stream  a  Myth? 
Floods  in  Switzerland. 


CONTENTS. 

The  Tunnel  through  Mont  Cenis. 
The    Greatest    Sea -Wave    ever 

known. 

The  Usefulness  of  Earthquakes. 
The  Earthquake  in  Peru. 
A  Great  Tidal  Wave. 
Deep-Sea   Dredgings. 
Tornadoes. 
Vesuvius. 

The  Forcing  Power  of  Rain. 
A  Shower  of  Snow-Crystals. 
Long  Shots. 
Influence  of  Marriage  on  the 

Death-Rate. 


The  Topographical  Survey  of 
India. 

A  Ship  Attacked  by  a  Sword- 
fish. 

The  Safety-Lamp. 

The  Dust  we  have  to  Brenthe. 

Photographic  Ghosts. 

The   Oxford   and   Cambridge 
Rowing  Styles. 

Betting  on  Horse-Races;    or, 
the  State  of  the  Odds. 

Squaring  the  Circle. 

The  New  Theory  of  Achilles' 
Shield. 


No.  2. 


THE   FORMS  OF  WATER   IN   CLOUDS  AND   RIVERS,  ICE  AND 

GLACIERS.— By  JOHN  TYNDALL,  LL.D.,  F.R.S.,  Professor  of  Natural  Philos- 
ophy in  the  Royal  Institution,  London. —  With  nineteen  illustrations  drawn 
under  the  direction  of  the  author. 


Clouds.  Rains,  and  Rivers. 
The  Waves  of  Light. 
Oceanic  Distillation. 
Tropical  Rains. 
Architecture  of  Snow. 
Architecture  of  Lake  Ice. 
Ice  Pinnacles,  Towers,  and 
Chasms. 


CONTENTS. 

The  Motion  of  Glaciers. 
Likeness  of  Glacier  Motion  to 

River  Motion. 
Changes   of  Volume  of  Water 

by  Heat  and  Cold. 
The   Molecular  Mechanism  of 

Water-congelation. 
Sea  Ice  and  Icebergs. 


Ancient  Glaciers  of  Switzer- 
land. 

Ancient  Glaciers  of  England. 
Scotland.  Wales.and  Ireland. 

The  Glacial  Epoch. 

Glacier  Theories. 

The  Bine  Veins  of  Glaciers. 

Crevasses. 


No.  3. 


PHYSICS    AND    POLITICS:    An   Application    of  the    Principles  of 
Natural  Selection  and  Heredity  to  Political  Society. -By  WALTER 

BAGEHOT,  author  of  "The  English  Constitution." 


Chapter     I.— The  Preliminary  Age. 
Chapter   II.— The  Use  of  Conflict. 
Chapter  III. — Nation-making. 
Chapter  IV. —  Nation-making. 


CONTENTS. 

Chapter    V. —  The  Age  of  Discussion. 
Chapter  VI.— Verifiable  Progress  Politically  Con- 
sidered. 


THE   HUMBOLDT  PUBLISHING  CO.,  28  Lafayette  Place,  New  York. 


THE     HUMBOLDT    LIBRARY 


No.  4. 

EVIDENCE    AS    TO    MAN'S    PLACE    IN    NATURE.-By  THOMAS  H. 

HUXLEY,  F.K.S.,  F.L.S. —  With   numerous   illustrations. 

CONTENTS. 

Chapter  I. — The  Natural  History  of  the  Manlike    I    Chapter   II.— The  Relations  of  Man  to  the  Lower 
Apes.  Animals. 

I    Chapter  III. — Some  Fossil  Remains  of  Man. 


No.  5. 

EDUCATION:    INTELLECTUAL,   MORAL,   AND 

HERBERT  SPENCER. 


PHYSICAL.- By 


CONTENTS. 

Chapter   I.— What  Knowledge  is  of  Most  Worth  ? 
Chapter  II.— Intellectual  Education. 


Chapter  III. —  Moral   Education. 
Chapter  IT. —  Physical  Education. 


No.  6. 

TOWN  GEOLOGY.— By  the  Rev.  CHARLES  KINGSLEY,  F.L.S.,  F.G.S.,  Canon  of 
Chester. 

CONTENTS. 

Chapter     I.— The  Soil  of  the  Field.  I    Chapter  IV.— The  Coal  in  the  Fire. 

Chapter  II.— The  Pebbles  in  the  Street.  Chapter    V.— The  Lime  in  the  Mortar. 

Chapter  III.— The  Stones  in  the  Wall.  |    Chapter  VI.— The  Slates  on  the  Roof. 

No.  7. 

THE  CONSERVATION  OF  ENERGY.- By  BALFOUR  STEWART,  LL.D., 
F.B.S.,  Professor  of  Natural  Philosophy  at  the  Owens  College,  Manchester,  Eng. 
With  an  Appendix — "The  Correlation  of  Nervous  and  Mental  Forces,"  by  Prof. 
ALEXANDER  BAIN. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter     I.— What  is  Energy? 

Chapter  II. — Mechanical  Energy  and  its  Change 

into  Heat. 
Chapter  III. — The  Forces  and  Energies  of  Nature : 

the  Law  of  Conservation. 
Chapter  IV. — Transmutations  of  Energy. 


Chapter  V.— Historical  Sketch:  the  Dissipation 

of  Energy. 
Chapter  VI.— The  Position  of  Life. 

APPENDIX.— The  Correlation  of   Nervous  and 
Mental  Forces. 


No.  8. 

THE     STUDY    OF     LANGUAGES     BROUGHT     BACK     TO     ITS 

TRUE    PRINCIPLES.— By  C.  MARCEL,  Kut.  Leg.  Hon.,  author  of  "Language 
as  a  Means  of  Mental  Culture,"  &c. 


CONTENTS. 

Chapter     I. —  Subdivision  and  Order  of  Study. 
Chapter   II.—  The  Art  of  Reading. 
Chapter  III.— The  Art  of  Hearing. 
Chapter  IV.— The  Art  Speaking. 


Chapter  V.— The  Art  of  Writing. 
Chapter  VI.— On  Mental  Culture. 
Chapter  VII.— On  Routine. 


No.  9. 

THE    DATA 


OF    ETHICS.— By  HERBERT  SPENCER. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter        I. —  Conduct  in  General. 
Chapter      II. —  The  Evolution  of  Conduct. 

Chapter  III. —  Good  and  Bad  Conduct. 
Chapter     IV.— Ways  of  Judging  Conduct. 
Chapter       V.— The'  Physical  View. 
Chapter     VI.— The  Biological  View. 

Chapter  VII. —  The  Psychological  View. 
Chapter  Vm.— The  Sociological  View. 


Chapter     IX. —  Criticisms  and   Explanations. 
Chapter       X.—  The  Relativity  of  Pains  and  Pleas- 
Chapter     XI. —  Egoism  vergug  Altruism,      (ures. 
Chapter   XII. —  Altruism  verms  Egoism. 
Chapter  XIII. —  Trial  and  Compromise. 
Chapter  XIV.— Conciliation. 

Chapter    XV.—  Absolute  Ethics  and  Relative  Eth- 
Chapter  XVL—  The  Scope  of  Ethics.  [ies. 


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OF    POPULAR    SCIENCE. 


ffi 


Chapter  I.— Periodic  Movements:  Vibration  — 
§onorous  Vibration.— Vibration  of  a  Bell.— Vibra- 
tion of  a  Tuniiig-fork.— Vibration  of  a  String.— Of 
Plates  and  Membranes.— Vibration  of  Air  in  a 
Sounding-pipe.  — Method  of  the  Monometric 
Flame. —  Conclusion. 

Chapter  II. — Transmission  of  Sound.— Propaga- 
tion in  Air.— In  Water  and  Other  Bodies.— Ve- 
locity of  Sound  in  Air.-  In  Water  and  Other  Bodies. 
Reflection  of  Sound. —  Echo. 

Chapter  III.— Characteristics  of  Sound,  and  Dif- 
ference  between  Musical  Sound  and  Noise.— Load- 
ness  of  Sound,  and  the  Various  Causes  on  which 
it  depends.— Principle  of  the  Superposition  of 
Sounds. —  Sounding-boards  and  Resonators. 

Chapter  IV.—  Measure  of  the  Number  of  Vibra- 
tions.—Pitch  of  Sounds :  Limit  of  Audible  Sounds, 
of  Musical  Sonnds,  and  of  the  Human  Voice. — 
The  "Normal  Pitch."— Laws  of  the  Vibrations  of 
a  String,  and  of  Harmonics. 

Chapter  V.— Musical  Sounds.— Law  of  Simple 
Ratio. —  Unison:  interference. —  Beats:  their  ex- 
planation.—  Resultant  Notes. — Octaves,  and  other 
Harmonies.— Consonant  Chords  and  their  limits. 
—The  Major  fifth,  fourth,  sixth,  and  third:  the 
Minor  third  and  sixth.— The  Seventh  Harmonic. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter  VI.-Helmholtz's  Double  Siren.-App*. 
cation  of  the  Law  of  Simple  Ratio  to  three  or 
more  notes.— Perfect  Major  and  Minor  Chords: 
their  nature.— Their  inversion. 

Chapter  VII.- Discords.— The  Nature  of  Music 
and  Musical  Scales.  —  Ancient  Music.  -  Greek 
Scale.— Scale  of  Pythagoras.— Its  decay.— Ambro- 
sian  and  Gregorian  Chants.— Polyphonic  Music: 
Harmony.— The  Protestant  Reformation.— Pales- 
trina.— Change  of  the  Musical  Scale.— The  Tonic 
or  Fundamental  Chord.— The  Major  Scale.— Mu- 
sical Intervals.— The  Minor  Scale.— Key  and  Trans- 
position.—Sharps  and  Flats.— The  Temperate 
Scale:  its  inaccuracy.— The  Desirability  of  aban- 
doning it. 

Chapter  VIII.—  Quality  or  timbre  of  Musical 
Sounds.— Forms  assumed  by  the  Vibrations.— 
Laws  of  Harmonics.— Quality  or  timbre  of  Strings 
and  of  Instruments.— General  Laws  of  Chords.— 
Noises  accompanying  Musical  Sounds.— Quality 
or  timbre  of  Vocal  Musical  Sounds. 

Chapter  IX.—  Difference  between  Science  and 
Art.— Italian  and  German  Music. —  Separation  of 
the  two  Schools. — Influence  of  Paris.— Conclusion. 


Nos.  11  and  12. 


Double  number,  30  cents. 


THE  NATURALIST  ON  THE  RIVER  AMAZONS.-A  Record  of 
Adventures,  Habits  of  Animals,  Sketches  of  Brazilian  and 
Indian  Life,  and  Aspects  of  Nature  under  the  Equator,  during 
eleven  years  of  travel.— By  HENRY  WALTER  BATES,  P.L.S.,  Assistant 
Secretary  of  the  Royal  Geographical  Society  of  England. 


CONTENTS. 
(In  part.) 


Chapter  I.  —  Arrival  at  Para — Aspect  of  the 
country — First  walk  in  the  suburbs  of  Para — Birds, 
lizards,  and  insects — Leaf -carrying  ant— Sketch  of 
the  climate,  history,  and  present  condition  of  Para. 

Chapter  H. — The  swampy  forest  of  Para — A  Por- 
tuguese landed  proprietor — Life  of  a  Naturalist 
under  the  Equator — The  dryer  virgin  forests — Re- 
tired creeks — Aborigines. 

Chapter  III. — The  Tocantins  River  and  Cameta 
— Sketch  of  the  River — Grove  of  fan-leaved  palms 
— Native  life  on  the  Tocantins. 

Chapter  V. —  Caripi  and  the  Bay  of  Maraj6 — 
Negro  observance  of  Christmas — A  German  family 
— Bats  — Ant-eaters  —  Humming-birds  —  Domestic 
life  of  the  inhabitants — Hunting  excursion  with 
Indians — White  ants. 

Chapter  VI. — The  Lower  Amazons — Modes  of 
traveling  on  the  Amazons — Historical  sketch  of  the 
early  explorations  of  the  river — First  sight  of  the 
great  river — Flat-topped  mountains. 

Chapter  VII. — Ville  Nova,  its  inhabitants,  forest, 
and  animals — A  rustic  festival— River  Madeira — 
Mura  Indians— Yellow  Fever. 

Chapter  VIII. — Santarem — Manners  and  customs 


of  the  inhabitants — Sketches  of  Natural  History- 
palms,  wildf ruit-trees,  mining- wasps,  mason- wasps, 
bees,  and  sloths. 

Chapter  IX. — Voyage  up  the  Tapajos — Modes  of 
obtaining  fish — White  Cebus.and  habits  and  dispo- 
sitions of  Cebi  monkeys — Adventure  with  anaconda 

—  Smoke-dried  monkey  —  Boa-constrictor  —  Hya- 
cinthine  macaw — Descent  of  river  to  Santarem. 

Chapter  X. — The  Upper  Amazons — Desolate  ap- 
pearance of  river  in  the  flood  season — Mental  con- 
dition of  Indians  —  Floating  pumice-stones  from 
the  Andes — Falling  banks — Ega  and  its  inhabitants 
— The  four  seasons  of  the  Upper  Amazons. 

Chapter  XL— Excursions  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Ega — Character  and  customs  of  the  Passe  Indians 
—Hunting  rambles  with  natives  in  the  forest. 

Chapter  XII. —  Animals  of  the  neighborhood  of 
Ega— Scarlet-faced  monkeys- Owl-faced  night-apes 

—  Marmosets —  Bats—  Birds —  Insects —  Pendulous 
cocoons — Foraging  ants— Blind  ants. 

Chapter  XIII.— Excursions  beyond  Ega— Steam- 
boat traveling  on  the  Amazons — Various  tribes  of 
Indians— Descent  to  Pari — Great  changes  at  Par* 
— Departure  for  England. 


«%  This  is  one  of  the  most  charming  books  of  travel  ever  written,  and  is  both  interesting  and  in- 
structive. It  is  a  graphic  description  of  "  a  country  of  perpetual  summer,— where  trees  yield  flower  and 
fruit  all  the  year  round," — "a  region  where  the  animals  and  plants  have  been  fashioned  in  Nature's 
choicest  moulds." 


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THE     HUMBOLDT     LIBRARY 


No.  13. 

MIND    AND    BODY:  The  Theories  of  their  Relation.— By  ALEXANDER 

BAIN,  LL.D.,  Professor  of  Logic  in  the  University  of  Aberdeen. 


Chapter     I. —  Question  Stated. 
Chapter  II. —  Connection  of  Mind  and  Body. 
Chapter  III. — The  Connection  Viewed  as  Corre- 
spondence, or  Concomitant  Variation. 


CONTENTS. 

Chapter  IV.— General  Laws  of  Alliance  of  Mind 

and  Body.— The  Feelings  and  the  Will. 
Chapter     V.— The  Intellect. 
Chapter   VI.— How  are  Mind  and  Bodv  united' 
Chapter  VII.— History  of  the  Theories  of"  the  Soul. 


No.  14. 

THE  WONDERS  OF  THE  HEAVENS.-By  CAMILLE  FLAMMARION.- 
Translated  from  the  French  by  Mrs.  NORMAN  LOCKTER.— With  thirty-two 
Actinoglyph  Illustrations. 


CONTENTS. 


BOOK    FIRST. 


Chapter    I.—  Night. 

Chapter  II. — The  Heavens. 

Chapter  III.—  Infinite  Space.  [verse. 

Chapter  IV. — General  Arrangement  of  the  Uni- 

Chapter    V. —  Clusters  and  Nebulae. 

Chapter  VI.^The  Milky  Way. 

BOOK   SECOND. 

Chapter     I.— The  Sidereal  World. 

Chapter   II. — The  Northern  Constellations. 

Chapter  III.— The  Zodiac. 

Chapter  IV. —  Southern  Constellations. 

Chapter  V.— The  Number  of  the  Stars.— Their 
Distances. 

Chapter  VI. — Variable  Stars. — Temporary  Stars. 
Stars  suddenly  visible  or  invisible. 

Chapter  VII. — Distant  Universes.— Double,  Mul- 
tiple, and  Colored  Suns. 

BOOK   THIRD. 

Chapter     I. — The  Planetary  System. 
Chapter   II.— The  Sun. 


Chapter     III.— The  Sun  (continued). 

Chapter     IV. — Mercury. 

Chapter       V. —  Venus. 

Chapter     VI.— Mars. 

Chapter    VII. — Jupiter. 

Chapter  Vm.— Saturn. 

Chapter     IX. — Uranus. 

Chapter       X. — Neptune. 

Chapter     XI. —  Comets. 

Chapter    XII. —  Comets  (continued). 

BOOK   FOURTH. 

Chapter     I.— The  Terrestrial  Globe. 
Chapter    II. — Proofs  that  the  Earth  is  round.— 

That  it  turns  on  an  axis,  and  revolves  round 

the  Sun. 

Chapter  III.— The  Moon. 
Chapter  IV. — The  Moon  (continued). 
Chapter    V. —  Eclipses. 

BOOK   FIFTH. 

Chapter   I.— The  Plurality  of  Inhabited  Worlds. 
Chapter  II. — The  Contemplation  of  the  Heavens. 


No.  15. 

LONGEVITY:    THE    MEANS    OF    PROLONGING    LIFE    AFTER 
MIDDLE    AGE.— By  JOHN  GARDNER,  M.D. 


CONTENTS. 


What  is  the  Natural  Duration  of  Human  Life  ? 

Is  the  Duration  of  Life  in  any  degree  within  our 
power  ? 

Some  General   Considerations    respecting  Ad- 
vanced Age. 

Causes  of  Neglect  of  Health. 

Is  Longevity  Desirable? 

Physiology  of  Advanced  Age. 

Heredity. 

The  Means  of  Ameliorating  and  Retarding  the 
Effects  of  Age. 

Recuperative  Power. — What  is  Life? 

Water :  its  bearing  on  Health  and  Disease. 

Mineral  Waters. 

Stimulants  —  Spirituous  and  Malt  Liquors  and 
Wine. 

Climate,  its  Effects  on  Longevity. 

Disregarded  Deviations  from  Health  in  Aged 
Persons. —  (a).  Faulty  Nutrition— General  At- 
tenuation.—  (6).  Local  Failure  of  Nutrition. — 
(c).  Obesity. 

Pain — the  Use  and  Misuse  of  Narcotics. —  (a). 
Dolor-Senilis. —  (b).  Narcotics. —  (c).  Sarsapa- 
rilla  and  other  Remedial  Agents. 

Gout — New  Remedies  for. 

Rheumatism. —  Lumbago. 

Limit  to  the  Use  of  Narcotics. 

The  Stomach  and  Digestion. 

The  Liver. 


The  Kidneys  and  Urine.— Simple  Overflow.— Al- 
buminous Urine. —  Bright's  Disease. — Muddy 
Urine,  Gravel,  Stone. —  Irritable  Bladder.— 
Diabetes. 

The  Lower  Bowels. 

The  Throat. — Air-passages. —  Lungs. —  Bronchitis. 

The  Heart. 

The  Brain — Mind,  Motive  Power,  Sleep,  Paralysis. 

Established  Facts  respecting  Longevity. 

Diseases  Fatal  after  hixty. 

Summary. —  An  Experiment  Proposed. 

Appendix. —  Causes  of  Premature  Death. 

Notes  on  some  Collateral  Topics. —  (a).  Longevity 
of  the  Patriarchs  and  in  Ancient  Times.—  (b). 
Flourens  on  Longevity.— (c).  Popular  Errors 
respecting  Longevity. —  (d).  Waste  of  Human 
Life. —  (e).  Moral  and  Religious  Aspects  of 
Longevity. — (/).  Importance  of  Early  Treat- 
ment of  "Disorders.—  (a).  The  Bones  of  Old 
People  Brittle. —  (h).  Condition  of  very  Old 
People. —  (r).  One  Hundred  and  Five  Years  the 
Extreme  Limit  of  Human  Life. —  (j).  A  Case 
of  Recuperation. —  (k).  On  the  Water  used  in 
Country  Towns. —  (1).  Pure  Aerated  Water. — 
—  (m).  Anticipations. —  (n.)  Adulteration  of 
Food.  &c.,  its  Effects  on  Human  Life. —  (o). 
Cases  of  Prolonged  Life. —  (p).  Appliances 
Useful  to  Aged  Persons  for  Immediate  Relief 
of  Suffering. 


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OF    POPULAR    SCIENCE. 


ON  THE  ORIGIN  OF  SPECIES;  or, The  Causes  of  the  Phenomena 
Ot  Organic  Nature.— A  Course  of  Six  Lectures.— By  THOMAS  H.  HCXLET, 
F.R.S.,  F.L.S.,  Professor  of  Natural  History  in  the  Jermyn  Street  School  of 
Mines,  London. 


Chapter  I.— The  Present  Condition  of  Organic 
Nature.  ftura 

Chapter   II.— The  Past  Condition  of  Organic  Na- 

Chapter  III.— The  Method  by  which  the  Causes  of 
the  Present  and  Past  Conditions  of  Organic 
Nature  are  to  be  discovered.— The  Origination 
of  Living  Beings. 

Chapter  IV.— The  Perpetuation  of  Living  Beings. 
Hereditary  Transmission  and  Variation. 


CONTENTS. 


Ch*?ter,  v--Th«  Conditions  of  Existence  as  af- 
fecting  the  Perpetuation  of  Living  Beings. 

Chapter  VL-  A  Critical  Examination  of  tEe  Po- 
sition of  Mr.  Darwin's  work  on  -The  Origin 
or  species,  in  relation  to  the  Complete  The- 
ory of  the  Causes  of  the  Phenomena  of  Organic 

APPENDIX.— Criticisms  on  Darwin's  "Origin  of 
Species." 


No.  17. 

PROGRESS:  ITS  LAW  AND  CAUSE.- With  other  Disquisitions,  viz., 
The  Physiology  of  Laughter.— Origin  and  Function  of  Music.— The  Social 
Organism.— Use  and  Beauty.— The  Use  of  Anthropomorphism.— By  HERBERT 
SPENCER. 

No.  18. 

LESSONS  IN  ELECTRICITY.  To  which  is  added  an  Elementary 
Lecture  on  Magnetism.— By  JOHN  TYNDALL,  D.C.L.,  LL.D.,  F.R.S.,  Pro- 
fessor of  Natural  Philosophy  in  the  Royal  Institution  of  Great  Britain.— With 
Sixty  Illustrations. 

CONTENTS. 


Introduction. 

Historic  Notes. 

The  Art  of  Experiment. 

Electric  Attractions. 

Discovery  of  Conduction  and  Insulation. 

The  Electroscope. 

Electrics  and  Non- Electrics. 

Electric  Repulsions. 

Fundamental  Law  of  Electric  Action. 

Double  or  "Polar"  Character  of   the   Electric 

Force. 

What  is  Electricity! 
Electric  Induction. 
The  Electrophorus. 
Action  of  Points  and  Flames. 


The   Electrical  Machine. 
The  Leyden  Jar. 
Franklin's  Cascade  Battery. 
Leyden  Jars  of  the  Simplest  Form. 
Ignition  by  the  Electric  Spark. 
Duration   of  the  Electric  Spark. 
Electric  Light  in  Vacuo. 
Liehtenb  erg's  Figures. 
Surface  Compared  with  Mass. 
Physiological  Effects  of  the  Electrical  Discharge. 
Atmospheric  Electricity. 
The  Returning  Stroke. 
The  Leyden  Battery. 

APPENDIX. — An  Elementary  Lecture  on  Mag- 
netism. 


No.  19. 

FAMILIAR    ESSAYS   ON    SCIENTIFIC   SUBJECTS,  viz.,  Oxygen  in 

the  Sun. —  Sun-spot,  Storm,  and  Famine. —  New  Ways  of  Measuring  the  Sun's 
Distance. — Drifting  Light-waves. —  The  New  Star  which  faded  into  Star-mist. — 
Star-grouping,  Star-drift,  and  Star-mist.— By  RICHARD  A.  PROCTOR. 

No.  20. 

THE  ROMANCE  OF  ASTRONOMY.-By  R.  KALLET  MILLER,  M.A.,  Fel- 
low and  Assistant  Tutor  of  St.  Peter's  College,  Cambridge,  England.— With  an 
Appendix  by  RICHARD  A.  PROCTOR. 


The  Planets. 
Astrology. 
The  Moon. 
The  Sun. 

CONTENTS. 

The  Comets. 
Laplace's  Nebular  Hypothesis. 
The  Stars. 
The  Nebnlw. 

APPENDIX. 

The  Past  History  of  onr  Moon. 
Ancient  Babylonian  Astrogony. 

THE  HTJMBOLDT  PUBLISHING  CO.,  28  Lafayette  Place,  New  York. 


THE     HUMBOLDT     LIBRARY 


No.  21. 

ON  THE  PHYSICAL  BASIS  OF  LIFE.-With  Other  Essays,  viz., 
The  Scientific  Aspects  of  Positivism.— A  Piece  of  Chalk.— Geo- 
logical Contemporaneity.— A  Liberal  Education.— By  THOMAS  H. 
HUXLEY,  F.E.S.,  F.L.S. 

No.  22. 

SEEING  AND  THINKING.— By  WILLIAM  KINGDON  CLIFFORD,  F.B.S.,  Pro- 
fessor of  Applied  Mathematics  and  Mechanics  in  University  College,  London, 
and  sometime  Fellow  of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge. 


CONTENTS. 


The  Eye  and  the  Brain. 
The  Eye  and  Seeing. 


The  Brain  and  Thinking. 
Of  Boundaries  in  General. 


No.  23. 

SCIENTIFIC  SOPHISMS.  A  Review  of  Current  Theories  con- 
cerning Atoms,  Apes,  and  Men.— By  SAMUEL  WAINWRIGHT,  D.D. 
author  of  ''Christian  Certainty,"  "The  Modern  Avernus,"  &c. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter      I.— The  Right  of  Search. 

Chapter  II.— Evolution. 

Chapter  in. —  "A  Puerile  Hypothesis." 

Chapter  IV.— "  Scientific  Levity." 

Chapter  V. —  A  House  of  Cards. 

Chapter  VL — Sophisms. 

Chapter  VTI.— Protoplasm. 


Chapter  VOL— The  Three  Beginnings. 
Chapter     IX.— The  Three  Barriers. 
Chapter       X. —  Atoms. 
Chapter     XL — Apes. 
Chapter   XH.— Men. 
Chapter  Xm. —  Animi  Mundi. 


POPULAR  SCIENTIFIC  LECTURES,  viz.,  On  the  Relation  of  Optics 
to  Painting.— On  the  Origin  of  the  Planetary  System.— On 
Thought  in  Medicine.— On  Academic  Freedom  in  German  Uni- 
versities.—  By  H.  HELMHOLTZ,  Professor  of  Physics  in  the  University  oi 
Berlin. 

No.  25. 

THE  ORIGIN  OF  NATIONS.- In  two  parts.- On  Early  Civiliza- 
tions.—On  Ethnic  Affinities,  &C.~  By  GEORGE  BAWLINSON,  M.A., 
Camden  Professor  of  Ancient  History,  Oxford. 


CONTENTS. 


PART  L— EARLY  CIVILIZATIONS. 
Chapter        I. — Introduction. 
Chapter       II. — On  the  Antiquity  of  Civilization 

in  Egypt. 
Chapter     m. — On  the  Antiquity  of  Civilization 

at  Babylon. 
Chapter     IV. —  On   the   Date   and  Character  of 

Phoenician  Civilization. 

Chapter       V. —  On  the  Civilizations  of  Asia  Minor 

— Phrygia,  Lydia,  Lycia,  Troas. 

Chapter     VI. — On  the  Civilizations  of  Central  Asia 

— Assyria.  Media.  Persia,  India. 

Chapter   VII. — On  the  Civilization  of  the  Etruscans 

Chapter  VIII. — On  the  Civilization  of  the  British 

Celts. 
Chapter      IX.— Results  of  the  Inquiry. 


PART  II. —  ETHNIC  AFFINITIES  r>*  THE 
ANCIENT  WORLD. 

Chapter      L— The  Chief  Japhetic  Races. 
Chapter     II. —  Subdivisions  of  the  Japhetic  Races, 

Gomer  and  Javan. 

Chapter  m.— The  Chief  Hamitic  Races. 
Chapter   IV. — Subdivisions  of  Cush. 
Chapter     V. — Subdivisions  of  Mizraim  and 

Canaan. 

Chapter   VI.— The  Semitic  Races. 
Chapter  VH.— On  the  Subdivisions  of  the  Semitic 

Races. 


Published    semi-monthly.—  $3  a  year.—  Single    numbers.  15  cents, 


OF    POPULAR    SCIENCE. 


No.  26. 


THE    EVOLUTIONIST   AT    LARGE.-By  GRANT  ALLE>:. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter        I.—  Microscopic  Brains. 
Chapter      II.—  A  Wayside  Berry. 
Chapter     HI.—  In  Summer  Fields. 
Chapter     IV.—  A  Sprig  of  Water  Crowfoot. 
Chapter       V.—  Slugs  and  Snails. 
Chapter     VI.—  A  Study  of  Bones. 
Chapter   VII.—  Blue  >fud. 
Chapter  VIIL—  Cuckoo-pint. 
Chapter     IX.—  Berries  and  Berries. 
Chapter       X.  —  Distant  Relations. 
Chapter     XI.  —  Among  the  Heather. 

Chapter      XII.—  Speckled  Trout. 
Chapter    XIII.—  Dodder  and  Broomrape. 
Chapter     XIV.—  Dog's   Mercnrv  and  Plantain. 
Chapter       XV.—  Butterfly  Psychology. 
Chapter     XVI.—  Butterfly  Esthetics. 
Chapter   XV  II.—  The  Origin  of  Walnuts. 
Chapter  XVIII.—  A  Pretty  Land-shell. 
Chapter     XIX.—  Dogs  and  Masters. 
Chapter       XX.—  Blackcock. 
Chapter     XXI.—  Bindweed. 
Chapter   XXIL—  On  Cornish  Cliffs. 

No.  27. 

THE     HISTORY    OF 

FISHER,   F.R.H.S. 


I. —  The  Aborigines. 
II. —  The    Romans. 
III. —  The   Scandinavians. 


LANDHOLDING     IN     ENGLAND.-By  JOSEPH 


CONTENTS. 

IV.— The  Normans. 
V. — The  Plantagenets. 
VI.— The  Tudors. 


VII.— The  Stuarts. 
VIII — The  House  of   Hanover. 


FASHION  IN  DEFORMITY,  AS  ILLUSTRATED  IN  THE  CUS- 
TOMS OF  BARBAROUS  AND  CIVILIZED  RACES.-By  WILLIAM 

HENRY  FLOWER,  LL.D.,  F.R.S.,  F.R.C.S.,  P.Z.S.,  &c.,  Hunterian  Professor  of 
Comparative  Anatomy,  and  Conservator  of  the  Museum  of  the  Koyal  College  of 
Surgeons  of  England. — With  illustrations. 

TO   WHICH    IS    ADDED 

MANNERS    AND    FASHION.- By  HERBERT  SPENCER. 

No.  29. 

FACTS  AND  FICTIONS  OF  ZOOLOGY.- By  ANDREW  WILSON,  Ph.D., 
F.R.P.S.E.,  &c.,  Lecturer  on  Zoology  aud  Comparative  Anatomy  in  the  Edin- 
burgh Medical  School;  Lecturer  on  Physiology,  Watt  Institution  and  School 
of  Arts,  Edinburgh,  &c.— With  numerous  illustrations. 


Zoological  Myths. 

The  Sea-serpents  of  Science. 

Some  Animal  Architects. 


CONTENTS. 

Parasites  and  their  Development. 
What  I  Saw  in  an  Ant's  Nest. 


No.  30.  and  No.  31. 

ON    THE    STUDY    OF 

Archbishop  of  Dublin. 


[15  cents  each  number. 

WORDS.— By  RICHARD  CHENEVIX  TRENCH,  D.D.. 


Lecture     I. — Introductory  Lecture. 
Lecture  II.— On  the  Poetry  in  Words. 
Lecture  IH.—  On  the  Morality  in  Words. 
Lecture  IV.— On  the  History  in  Words. 


CONTENTS. 

Lecture     V.— On  the  Rise  of  New  Words. 
Lecture    VI.— On  the  Distinction  of  Words. 
Lecture  VTL— The  Schoolmaster's  Use  of  Words. 


HEREDITARY  TRAITS,  AND  OTHER  ESSAYS.-By  RICHARD  A. 
PROCTOR  B.A.,  F.R.A.S.,  author  of  "The  Sun,"  "Other  Worlds  than  Ours," 
"Saturn,"  &e. 


I.— Hereditary  Traits, 
n.— Artificial   Somnambulism. 


CONTENTS. 

I       HI.— Bodily  Illness  as  a  Mental  Stimulant. 
IV.— Dual  Consciousness. 


THE   HUMBOLDT  PUBLISHING  CO.,  28  Lafayette  Place,  New  York. 


THE    HUMBOLDT    LIBRARY 


No.  33. 

VIGNETTES    FROM 

tionist   at   Large." 


NATURE.— By  GRANT  ALLEN,  author  of  "The  Evolu. 


I.— Fallow  Deer. 
II. —  Sedge   and   Woodbrush. 
III. —  Red  Campion  and  White. 
IV. —  Butterfly-Hunting  Begins. 
V.— Red  Campion  Again. 
VI.— The  Hedgehog's  Hole. 
VII.— On   Musbnry   Castle. 
VIII— A  Big  Fossil  Bone. 
IX. — Veronica. 
X. — Guelder  Rose. 
XI.— The  Heron's  Haunt. 


TENT  S. 

XII.— A   Bed  of  Nettles. 
XIII. —  Loosestrife  and  Pimpernel. 
XFV.—  The   Carp  Pond. 
XV.— A  Welsh  Roadside. 
XVI.— Seaside  Weeds. 
XVII.— A  Mountain  Tarn. 
XVm.— Wild  Thyme. 
XIX. —  The  Donkey's  Ancestors. 
XX.— Beside  the  Cromlech. 
XXI.— The  Fall  of  the  Leaf. 
XXII.— The  Fall  of  the  Year. 


No.  34. 

THE  PHILOSOPHY  OF  STYLE.— By  HERBERT  SPENCER,  author  of  "First 
Principles  of  Philosophy,"  "Social  Statics,"  "Elements  of  Psychology,"  "Ele- 
ments of  Biology,"  "Education,"  &c. 

CONTENTS. 

PART  I. —  Causes  of  Force  in  Language,   tchich  depend  upon  Economy  of  lite  Mental 

Energies. 


I. —  The    Principle    of    Economy    applied    to 

Words. 

n.— The  Effect  of  Figurative  Language  Ex- 
plained. 


III. —  Arrangement  of  Minor  Images  in  Build- 
ing up  a  Thought. 

IV. —  The  Superiority  of  Poetry  to  Prose 
Explained. 


PART  II. —  Causes  of  Force  in  Language  wliicli  depend  upon  Economy  of  the  Mental 

Sensibilities. 

TO   WHICH    IS    ADDED 

THE    MOTHER    TONGUE.— By  ALEXANDER  BAIN,  LL.D.,  Professor  of  Logic 
in  the  University  of  Aberdeen. 

CONTENTS. 
Conditions   of_  Language  Acquisition  Generally.     I        The  Age  for  Commencing  Grammar. 


The  Mother  Tongue. 
Teaching  Grammar. 


The  Higher  Composition. 
English  Literature. 


No.  35. 

ORIENTAL     RELIGIONS.— By  JOHN  CAIRO,  S.T.D.,  President  of  the  Univer- 
sity of  Glasgow,  and  other  authors. 


C  I. —  Brahmanism. 
Religions  of  India.  <  _ 

^n.— Buddhism. 


By  JOHN  CAIRO,  S.T.D. 


CONTENTS. 

Religion  of  China. —  Confucianism. 

By  Rev.  GEORGE  MATHESOF. 
Religion  of  Persia. — Zoroaster  and    the  Zend 
Avesta.  By  Rev.  JOHN  MILNE.  M.A. 


No.  36. 


LECTURES    ON    EVOLUTION.-With  an  Appendix   on  The   Study 
of    Biology.— By  THOMAS  H.  HUXLEY. 


CONTENTS. 


I.— THREE  LECTURES  ON  EVOLUTION. 
Lecture   I. — The   Three    Hypotheses    respecting 

the  History  of  Nature. 
Lecture  II.— The  Hypothesis  of  Evolution.— The 

Neutral  and  the  Favorable  Evidence. 


Lecture  HI.  —  The    Demonstrative   Evidence    of 
Evolution. 


H.— A  LECTURE  ON  THE  STUDY  OF  BIOLOGY. 


No.  37. 

SIX    LECTURES 


ON     LIGHT.— By  Prof.  JOHN  TYNDALL,  F.R.S. 


CONTENTS. 


Lectnre     I. — Introductory. 
Lecture   II.— Origin  of  Physical  Theories. 
Lecture  HI.— Relation  of  Theories  to  Experience. 
Lecture  IV. — Chromatic  Phenomena  produced  by 
Crystals  on  Polarized  Light. 


Lecture  V. —  Range  of  Vision  incommensurate 
with  Range  of  Radiation. 

Lecture  VI. — Principles  of  Spectrum  Analysis. 
— Solar  Chemistry. —  Summary 
and  Conclusions." 


Published    semi-montnly.—  $3  a  year.—  Single    numbers,  15  cents. 


OF    POPULAR    SCIENCE. 


No.  38  and  No.  39.  [15  Pentg  earh 

GEOLOGICAL  SKETCHES  AT  HOME  AND  ABROAD.- By  ARCH- 
IBALD GEIKIE,  LL.D.,  F.K.S.,  Director-General  of  the  Geological  Surveys  of 
Great  Britaiu  uiid  Ireland. — In  Two  Parts,  each  complete  in  itself. 


PART  I.— No.  38. 
I.— My  First  Geological   Excursion, 
n.— "The  Old  Man  of  Hoy." 
III.— The  Baron's  Stone  of  Killochan. 
IV.— The  Colliers  of  Carrick. 
V. —  Among  the  Volcanoes  of  Central  Prance. 
VI. —  The  Old  Glaciers  of  Norway  and  Scotland. 
VII. —  Rock-Weathering  Measured  by  the  Decay 
of  Tombstones. 


CONTENTS. 


PART  II.— No.  39. 

I.— A  Fragment  of  Primeval  Europe. 
II. —  In   Wyoming. 

III.— The  Geysers  of  the  Yellowstone. 
IV.— The  Lava  Fields  of  Northwestern  Europe. 
V.— The  Scottish  School  of  Geology. 
VI. —  Geographical   Evolution. 
VII. — The  Geological  Influences  which  have  affect- 
ed the  Course  of  British  History. 


No.  40. 

THE    SCIENTIFIC    EVIDENCE    OF    ORGANIC    EVOLUTION.- By 

GEORGE  J.  ROMANES,  M.A.,  LL.D.,  F.R.S.,  Zoological  Secretary  of  the  Linnean 
Society,  London. 

CONTENTS. 
I. —  Introduction. 

II. —  The  Argument  from  Classification.       [ure. 
III. —  The  Argument  from  Morphology  or  Stnict- 


IV. — The  Argument  from  Geology. 


V.— The  Argument  from  Geographical  Distribu- 
VI. —  The  Argument  from  Embryology.        [tiou. 
VII. —  Arguments  drawn   from  Certain   ~ 
Considerations. 


General 


TO    WHICH    IS    ADDED 


PALEONTOLOGY    AND    THE    DOCTRINE    OF    EVOLUTION.-By 

Prof.  THOMAS  H.  HUXLEY. 

NATURAL   SELECTION   AND   NATURAL  THEOLOGY.-By  EUSTACE 

R.   CONDER,    P.P. 

No.  41. 

CURRENT  DISCUSSIONS  IN  SCIENCE.- By  W.  MATTIBU  WILLIAMS, 
F.R.A.S.,  F.C.S.,  author  of  "The  Fuel  of  the  Sun,"  "Through  Norway  with  a 
Knapsack,"  "A  Simple  Treatise  on  Heat,"  &c. 


I. —  Meteoric  Astronomy. 
II.— Dr.  Siemens's  Theoiy  of  the  Sun. 
III.— Another  World  Down   Here. 
IV. — The  Origin  of  Volcanoes. 
V. —  Note  on  the  Direct  Effect  of  Sun-Spots  on 

Terrestrial  Climates. 
VI.— The  Philosophy  of  the  Radiometer  and  its 

Cosmical  Revelations. 
VII.— The  Solidity  of  the  Earth. 
VIII. —  Meteoric  Astronomy. 


CONTENTS. 
IX.- 
X.- 
XI.- 
XII.- 


xin.- 

XIV.- 

xv.- 

XVI.- 


Aerial  Exploration  of  the  Arctic  Region*. 

"Baily's   Beads." 

World-smashing. 

On    the    so-called   "Crater-Necks"  and 

"Volcanic  Bombs"  of  Ireland. 
•Travertine. 

•  Murchison  and  Babbage. 

•  The  "Consumption  of  Smoke." 
-The  Air  of  Stove-heated  Rooms. 


No.  42. 

HISTORY 

POLLOCK. 


OF     THE      SCIENCE      OF      POLITICS.- By  FREDERICK 


Chapter  I.— Introductory.— Place  of  the  Theory 
of  Politics  in  Human  Knowledge. 

Chapter  II.— The  Classic  Period:  Pericles— Soc- 
rates—Plato— Aristotle.— The  Greek  Ideal  of 
the  State. 

Chapter  III.— The  Mediaeval  Period:  The  Papacy 
and  the  Empire.— Thomas  Aquinas— Dante— 
Bracton— Marsilio  of  Padua 


Chapter  IV.— The  Modern  Period:  Machinvelli— 
Jean  Bodin— Sir  Thomas  Smith— Hobbes. 


CONTENTS. 

Chapter  V.— The  Modern  Period  (continued) : 
Hooker— Locke— Rousseau — Blnckstone. 

Chapter  VI.— The  Modern  Period  (continued) : 
Hume — Montesquieu— Burke. 

Chapter  VII.— The  Present  Century:  Politic*! 
Sovereignty— Limits  of  State  Intervention— 
Bentham  —Austin— Maine— Bagehot— Kant  — 
Ahrens  —  Savismy— Cornewall  Lewis — John 
Stuart  Mill— Herbert  Spencer— Labonlaye. 


DARWIN    AND    HUMBOLDT.-Their    Lives    and    Work.-By  Prof. 

HUXLEY  and  others. 

CONTENTS. 


CHARLES    DARWIN. 

I —Introductory  Notice.— By  TH.  H.  HUXLEY. 

II  —Life  and  Character.— By  GEO.  J.  ROMANES. 
IIL-Work  in  Geology.— By  ARCHIBALD  GEIKIE. 
IV.-Work  in  Botany.-ByW.T.THiSELTON  DYER. 

V.-Work  in  Zoology— By  GEO.  J.  ROMANES. 
VI  —Work  in  Psychology.— By  GEO.  J.  ROMANES. 


ALEXANDER  VON   HIJMBOLDT. 

I  —An  Address  delivered  by  Louis  AOASSIZ  at 
the  Centennial  Anniversary  of  the  birth  of  A  LKX- 
ANDER  VON  HuMBOLDT,  under  the  auspices  pf  the 
Boston  Society  of  Natural  History.  Sept.: 14  ». 

H._  Remarks  by  Prof.  FREDERIC  H.  HEDOK,  of 
Harvard  University. 


THE 


HUMBOLDT  PUBLISHING  CO.,  28  Lafayette  Place,  New  York. 


THE    HUMBOLDT     LIBRARY 


No.  44  and  No.  45. 


THE     DAWN     OF     HISTORY.- An     Introduction     to     Prehistoric 

Study.  —  Edited    by  C.  F.  KEARY,  M.A.,  of    the  British  Museum.  — In  Two 
Parts,  each  complete  in  itself. 


CONTENTS. 


PART  I.— No.  44. 

Chapter      I. —  The  Earliest  Traces  of  Man. 
Chapter     II. — The  Second   Stone  Age. 
Chapter  III.— The  Growth  of  Language. 
Chapter   IV.— Families  of  Language. 
Chapter     V.— The  Nations  of  the  Old  World. 
Chapter   VI. —  Early  Social   Life. 
Chapter  VII.—  The  Village  Community. 


PART  II.— No.  45. 
Chapter  VIII.—  Religion. 
Chapter     IX.— Aryan   Religions. 
Chapter      X.— The  Other  World. 
Chapter     XI. — Mythologies  and  Folk-Tales. 
Chapter   XII. —  Picture-Writing. 
Chapter  XIII. —  Phonetic  Writing.  [hies. 

Chapter  XIV. —  Conclusion.— Notes  and  Author- 


No.  46. 

THE     DISEASES     OF     MEMORY.— By  TH.  KIBOT,  author  of  "Heredity," 
"English  Psychology," &c. —  Translated  from  the  French  by  J.  FITZGERALD,  A.M. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter  I.— MEMORY  AS  A  BIOLOGICAL  FACT. 

Memory  essentially  a  biological  fact,  incident- 
ally a  psychic  fact. — Organic  memory. — Mod- 
ifications of  nerve-elements:  dynamic  associa- 
tions between  these  elements. — Conscious  mem- 
ory.—  Conditions  of  consciousness:  intensity; 
duration.  —  Unconscious  cerebration.  —  Nerve- 
action  is  the  fundamental  condition  of  memory; 
consciousness  is  only  an  accessoiy. —  Localiza- 
tion in  the  past,  or  recollection.—  Mechanism 
of  this  operation. — It  is  not  a  simple  and  instan- 
taneous act;  it  consists  of  the  addition  of  sec- 
ondary states  of  consciousness  to  the  principal 
state  of  consciousness. —  Memory  is  a  vision  in 
time. —  Localization,  theoretical  and  practical. — 
Reference  points. —  Resemblance  and  difference 
between  localization  in  the  future  and  in  the 
past. — All  memory  an  illusion.— Forgetfulness 
a  condition  of  memory. — Return  to  the  starting- 
point  :  conscious  memory  tends  little  by  little  to 
become  automatic. 

Chapter  II.— GENERAL  AMNESIA. 

Classification  of  the  diseases  of  memory. — Tem- 
porary amnesia. — Epileptics. — Forgetfulness  of 
certain  periods  of  life. —  Examples  of  re-educa- 
tion.— Slow  and  sudden  recoveries. — Case  of  pro- 
visional memory. —  Periodical  or  intermittent 
amnesia. — Formation  of  two  memories,  totally 
or  partially  distinct. —  Cases  of  hypnotism  re- 
corded byMaenish,Azam,  and  Dufay. — Progress- 
ive amnesia. —  Its  importance. — Reveals  the  law 
which  governs  the  destruction  of  memory. — Law 
of  regression :  enunciation  of  this  law. — In  what 


order  memory  fails. — Counter-proof:  it  is  recon- 
stituted in  inverse  order. — Confirmatory  facts. — 
Congenital  amnesia. — Extraordinary  memory  of 
some  idiots. 

Chapter  III.— PARTIAL  AMNESIA. 
Reduction  of  memory  to  memories. —  Anatomical 
and  physiological  reasons  for  partial  memories. 
— Amnesia  of  numbers,  names,  figures.forms,&c. 
— Amnesia  of  signs. — Its  nature :  a  loss  of  motor- 
memory.— Examination  of  this  point.— Progress- 
ive amnesia  of  signs  verifies  completely  the  law 
of  i-egression.  —  Order  of  dissolution:  proper 
names:  common  nouns;  verbs  and  adjectives; 
interjections,  and  language  of  the  emotions; 
gestures. — Relation  between  this  dissolution  and 
the  evolution  of  the  Indo-European  languages. — 
Counter-proof :  return  of  signs  in  inverse  order. 

Chapter  IV.— EXALTATION  OF  MEMORY,  OR 

HYPERMNESIA. 

General  excitation. — Partial  excitation. —  Return 
of  lost  memories.  —  Return  of  forgotten  lan- 
guages.— Reduction  of  this  fact  to  the  law  of  re- 
gression.—  Case  of  false  memory. —  Examples, 
and  a  suggested  explanation. 

Chapter  V.—  CONCLUSION. 

Relations  between  the  retention  of  perceptions 
and  nutrition,  between  the  reproduction  of  rec- 
ollections and  the  general  and  local  circulation. 
—  Influence  of  the  quantity  and  quality  of  the 
blood. —  Examples. —  The  law  of  regression  con- 
nected with  a  physiological  principle  and  a  psy- 
chological principle. —  Recapitulation. 


No.  47. 


THE  CHILDHOOD  OF  RELIGIONS.-Embracing  a  Simple  Account 
of  the  Birth  and  Growth  of  Myths  and  Legends.— By  EDWARD 
CLODD,  F.E.A.S.,  author  of  "The  Childhood  of  the  World,"  "The  Story  of 
Creation,"  &c. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter     I. —  Introductory.  [tion. 

Chapter  II.— Legends  of  the  Past  about  the  Crea- 
Chapter  III.— Creation  as  told  by  Science. 
Chapter  IV. — Legends  of  the  Past  about  Mankind. 
Chapter  V. — Early  Races  of  Mankind.  [tions. 
Chapter  VI.— The  Aryan,  or  Indo-European  na- 
ChapterVII. — The  Ancient  and  Modern  Hindu 
Religions. 


Chapter  VTII. — Zoroastrianism,  the  Ancient   Re- 
ligion of  Persia. 
Chapter     IX. —  Buddhism. 
Chapter      X.— The  Religions  of  China. 
Chapter     XI.— The  Semitic  Nations. 
Chapter  XII. —  Mohammedanism,  or  Islam. 
Chapter  XIII.— On  the  Study  of  the  Bible. 


Published    semi-montlily.—  $3  a  year.—  Single    numbers.  15  cents. 


OF    POPULAR    SCIENCE. 


LIFE     IN     NATURE.— By  JAMES  HINTON,  author  of  "Man  and  his  Dwellinc 

Place,"    "The   Mystery  of  Pain,"  &c. 


Chapter      I.— Of  Function;  or,  How  We  Act. 
Chapter    II.— Of  Nutrition;   or.  Why  We  Grow. 
Chapter  III.— Of  Nutrition;   The  Vital  Force. 
Chapter  IV.— Of  Living  Forms:  or.  Morphology 
Chapter    V.— Living  Forms.—  The  Law  of  Form. 
Chapter  VI.— Is  Lire  Universal? 
Chapter  VII.— The  Living  World. 


CONTENTS. 

Chapter  VIII.— Nature  and  Man 

Chapter     IX.-The  Phenomenal  and  the  True. 

Chapter       X.— Force. 


Chapter  XIII.— Conclusion. 


No.  49. 

THE    SUN:    Its    Constitution;    Its    Phenomena;    Its    Condition.- 

By  NATHAN   T.  CARR,  LL.D.,  Judge  of  the  Ninth  Judicial  Circuit  of  Indiana. 
With  an  Appendix  by  RICHARD  A.  PROCTOR  and  M.  W.  WILLIAMS. 


CONTENTS. 


IL- 

m.- 

IV.- 
V- 

VI.- 


Section        I.—  Purpose  of  this  Essay.— Difficulties 
of  the  Subject. 

Distance  from  the  Earth  to  the  Sun. 

The  Diameter  of  the  Sun. 

The  Form  of  the  Sun. 

Rotary  Motion  of  the  Sun. 

Perturbating  Movement. 

The  Sun's  Orbital  Movement. 

The_  Sun's  Attractive  Force.— Den- 
sity of  the  Solar  Mass. 
Section     IX. —  The  Sun's  Atmosphere. 
Section       X.—  The  Chromosphere. 
Section     XI. — Corona,  Prominences,  and  Faculse. 
Section    XII.— The  Photosphere. 
Section  XIII.— The  Sun's  Heat. 
Section  XIV. —  Condition  of  the  Interior. 
Section    XV.— Effects  of  Heat  on  Matter. 


Section 

Section 

Section 

Section 

Section 

Section  VII 

Section  VIII 


Section 
Section 
Section 
Section 
Section 
Section 

Section 
Section 
Section 
Section 
Section 

Section 
Section 


XVI. 

XVII. 

XVIII, 

XIX. 

XX 

XXI. 


-  The  Expansive  Power  of  Heat. 

-The  Sun's  Crust. 


—  The  Gaseous  Theory. 

—  The  Vapor  Theory. 


The  "Cloud-like"  Theory. 
Supposed  Supports  of  the  Fore- 
going Theories. 
XXII.— The  Crust  in  a  Fluid  Condition. 
XXIII.— Production  of  the  Sun-Spots. 
XXIV.— The  Area  of  Sun-Spots  Limited. 
XXV.— Periodicity  of  the  Spots. 
XXVI.— The  Spots   are  Cavities  in  the 

Sun. 
XXVII.—  How  the  Heat  of  the  Sun  reaches 

^^  the  Earth. 

XXVIII.— The  Question  of  the  Extinction 
of  the  Sun. 


Appendix.—  First.— The  Sun's  Corona  and  his  Spots.— By  RICHARD  A.  PBOCTOE. 
Second. — The  Fuel  of  the  Sun. —  By  RICHARD  A.  PROCTOR. 
Third.— The  Fuel  of  the  Sun.— A  Reply,  by  W.  M.  WILLIAMS. 


No.  50  and  No.  51. 


[15  cents  each  number. 


MONEY   AND  THE   MECHANISM   OF   EXCHANGE.- By  W.  STANLEY 

JEVONS,  M.A.,  F.R.S.,  Professor  of  Logic  and  Political  Economy  in  the  Owens 
College,  Manchester,  England. —  In  Two  Parts. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter        I. —  Barter. 

Chapter      II. — Exchange. 

Chapter    HI. — The  Functions  of  Money. 

Chapter     IV. — Early  History  of  Money. 

Chapter      V. — Qualities  of  the  Material  of  Money 

Chapter     VI.— The  Metals  as  Money. 

Chapter   VII.— Coins. 

Chapter  VIII. —  The  Principles  of  Circulation. 

Chapter     IX. — Systems  of  Metallic  Money. 

Chapter      X.— The  English  System  of  Metallic 

Currency. 

Chapter     XI. —  Fractional  Currency. 
Chapter  XII.— The  Battle  of  the  Standards. 
Chapter  XIII. — Technical     Matters    relating    to 

Coinage. 
Chapter  XIV. —  International  Money. 


Chapter       XV.— The  Mechanism  of  Exchange. 
Chapter     XVI. —  Representative  Money. 
Chapter    XVII.— The   Nature   and   Varieties   of 

Promissory  Notes. 
Chapter  XVIII.— Methods  of  Regulating  a  Paper 

Currency. 

Chapter     XIX. —  Credit  Documents.        [System. 
Chapter       XX. — Book  Credit  and  the  Banking 
Chapter     XXI.— The  Clearing-House  System. 
Chapter    XXII.— The  Check  Bank. 
Chapter  XXIII.— Foreign  Bills  of  Exchange. 
Chapter  XXTV.— The  Bank  of  England  and  the 

Money  Market. 

Chapter    XXV.— A  Tabular  Standard  of  Value. 
Chapter  XXVI.— The  Quantity  of  Money  needed 

by  a  Nation. 


No.  52. 

THE     DISEASES     OF    THE    WILL—  By  TH.  RIBOT,  author  of  "The  Dis- 
eases of  Memory,"  &c.  —  Translated  from  the  French  by  J.  FITZGERALD,  A.M. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter     I.—  Introduction.- The  Question  Stated. 
Chapter   II.— Impairment  of  the  Will.— Lack  of 

Impulsion. 
Chapter  HI.— Impairment  of  the  Will.— Excess  of 

Impulsion. 


Chapter  IV.—  Impairment  of  Voluntary  Attention. 
Chapter    V. — The  Realm  of  Caprice. 
Chapter  VI.— Extinction  of  the  Will. 
Chapter  VII. — Conclusion. 


THE   HUMBOL.DT  PUBLISHING  CO.,  28  Lafayette  Place,  New  York. 


THE     HUMBOLDT     LIBRARY 


No.  53. 

ANIMAL    AUTOMATISM, 

HEXRY  HUXLEY,  LL.D.,  F.R.S. 


AND    OTHER     ESSAYS.- By  THOMAS 


CONTENTS. 


I. — On    the    Hypothesis    that    Animals    are 

Automata,  and  its  History. 
II. —  Science  and  Culture. 
IH. —  On  Elementary  Instruction  in  Physiology. 


IV. —  On   the    Border   Territory   between    the 
Animal  and  the  Vegetable  Kingdoms. 
V. —  Universities:  Actual  and  Ideal. 


No.  54. 

THE  BIRTH  AND  GROWTH  OF  MYTHS.- By  EDWARD  CLODD, 
F.R.A.S.,  author  of  "The  Childhood  of  the  World,"  "The  Childhood  of  Re- 
ligions," "The  Story  of  Creation,"  &c. 

CONTENTS. 


I. —  Nature  as  Viewed  by  Primitive  Man. 
n. — Personification  of  the  Powers  of  Nature. 
HI. — The   Sun   and   Moon  in  Mythology. 
IV. — The    Theories    of    Certain    Comparative 

Mythologists. 
V. —  Aryan  Mythology. 

VT. —  The  Primitive  Nature-Myth  Transformed. 
VII.— The  Stars  in  Mythology. 
Vni.— Myths  of  the  Destructive  Forces  of  Nature. 
IX.— The  Hindu  Sun-and-Clond  Myth. 
X. —  Demonology. 


XI.— Metempsychosis  and  Transformation. 
XH. — Transformation   in  the   Middle  Ages. 
XIII. —  The  Belief  in  Transformation  Universal. 
XIV.—  Beast-Fables. 
XV.— Totemism. 

XVI. — Heraldry:   Ancestor-worship.          ftives. 
XVII.— Survival  of  Myth  in  Historical  Narra- 
XVIII.— Myths  of  King  Arthur  and   Llewellyn. 
XIX. — Semitic  Myths  and  Legends. 
XX. —  Conclusion. 
Appendix. —  An  American   Indian   Myth. 


No.  55. 

THE    SCIENTIFIC    BASIS   OF  MORALS,  AND   OTHER   ESSAYS. 

By  WILLIAM  KINGDON  CLIFFORD,  F.R.S. 


I. —  On  the  Scientific  Basis  of  Morals. 
H. —  Right    and  Wrong:    the  Scientific  Ground 
of  their  Distinction. 


CONTENTS. 

I    III.— The  Ethics  of  Belief. 
IV.— The  Ethics  of  Religion. 


No.  56  and  No.  57.  [15  cents  each   number. 

ILLUSIONS:    A    PSYCHOLOGICAL    STUDY.- By  JAMES  SULLY,  author 
of  "Sensation  and  Intuition."  "Pessimism,"  &c. —  In  Two  Parts. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter      I.— The  Study  of  Illusion. 
Chapter    II.— The  Classification  of  Illusions. 
Chapter  III.— Illusions  of  Perception:  General. 
Chapter  IV. —  Illusions  of  Perception  (continued). 
Chapter    V. — Illusions  of  Perception  (continued). 
Chapter  VI.— Illusions  of  Perception  (continued). 
Chapter  VTI. —  Dreams. 


Chapter  VIII. — Illusions  of  Introspection. 
Chapter     IX. —  Other   Quasi-Presentative    Illu- 
sions:   Errors   of  Insight. 
Chapter       X. — Illusions  of  Memory. 
Chapter     XI.—  Elusions  of  Belief. 
Chapter   XII.—  Results. 


No.  58  and  No.  59. 


Two  double  numbers,  3O  cents   each. 


THE    ORIGIN    OF  SPECIES    BY  MEANS   OF  NATURAL  SELEC- 
TION, or  the  Preservation   of  Favored    Races   in  the  Struggle 

for    Life.— By  CHARLES  DARWIN,  M.A.,  F.R.S.— New  edition,  from  the  sixth 
and  latest  English  edition,  with  additions  and  corrections. — Two  double  numbers. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter        I. — Variation  under  Domestication. 

Chapter      II. — Variation  under  Nature. 

Chapter    III. —  Struggle  for  Existence. 

Chapter  IV.— Natural  Selection:  or,  the  Sur- 
vival of  the  Fittest. 

Chapter      V. —  Laws  of  Variation. 

Chapter     VT.— Difficulties  of  the  Theory. 

Chapter  VII. —  Miscellaneous  Objections  to  the 
Theory  of  Natural  Selection. 

Chapter  Vm.— Instinct. 

Chapter     EX. — Hybridism. 


Chapter  X. —  On  the  Imperfection  of  the  Geo- 
logical Record. 

Chapter  XI. —  On  the  Geological  Succession  of 
Organic  Beings. 

Chapter   XII. —  Geological  Distribution. 

Chapter  XIII. — Geological  Distribution  (contirid). 

Chapter  XIV.— Mutual  Affinities  of  Organic  Be- 
ings: Morphology:  Embryology: 
Rudimentary  Organs. 

Chapter  XV. — Recapitulation  and  Conclusion. 

Index. —  Glossary  of  Scientific  Terms. 


Published    semi-monthly.—  $3  a  year.—  Single    numbers,  15  cents. 


OF    POPULAR    SCIENCE. 


No.  60. 


THE  CHILDHOOD  OF  THE  WORLD.-A  Simple  Account  of  Man 
in  Early  Times.— By  EDWARD  CLODD,  F.R.A.S.,  author  of  "The  Childhood 
of  Religions,"  "The  Story  of  Creation,"  &c. 


CONTENTS. 


I.- 
II.- 
III.- 

IV.- 

V- 

VI.- 

VII.- 

VIII.- 

IX.- 

X.- 

XI.- 

XII.- 

XIII.- 

xrv.- 
xv.. 


XVI.- 

xvn.- 

xvni.- 


PABT  L 
-Introductory. 
-Man's  First  Wants. 
-Man's  First  Tools. 
-Fire. 

-Cooking  and  Pottery. 
-Dwellings. 
-Use  of  Metals. 

-Man's  Great  Age  on  the  Earth. 
-Mankind   as    Shepherds,   Farmers,   and 

Traders. 
-Language. 

-  Writing. 
-Counting. 

-Man's  Wanderings  from  his  first  Home. 

-  Man's  Progress  in  all  things. 
-Decay  of  Peoples. 


PART  II. 
-  Introductory. 
-Man's  First  Questions. 
-Myths. 


XIX— 
XX.- 
XXI.- 

XXII.- 

XXIII.- 

XXIV.- 

XXV.- 

XXVI.- 

XXVIL- 

XXVIII.- 


XXIX.- 

XXX.- 

XXXI.- 

XXXII.- 

XXXIII.- 

XXXIV- 

XXXV.- 

XXXVI.- 

XXXVII.- 


Myths  about  Sun  and  Moon. 
Myths  about  Eclipses. 
Myths  about  Stars. 
Myths  about  the  Earth  and  Man. 
Man's  Ideas  about  the  Soul. 
Belief  in  Magic  and  Witchcraft. 
•Man's  Awe  of  the  Unknown. 

-  Fetish  -Worship. 

-  Idolatry. 

-  Nature  -Worship. 

1.  Water -Worship. 

2.  Tree -Worship. 

3.  Animal -Worship. 
-Polytheism,  or  Belief  in  Many  Gods. 
-Dualism,  or  Belief  in  Two  Gods. 

-  Prayer. 
-Sacrifice. 

-Monotheism,  or  Belief  in  One  God. 
-Three  Stories  About  Abraham. 
-Man's  Belief  in  a  Future  Life. 
-Sacred  Books. 
-Conclusion. 


No.  61. 

MISCELLANEOUS     ESSAYS.- By  RICHARD  A.  PROCTOR,  B.A.,  F.R.A.S., 
author  of  "The  Sun,"  "Other  Worlds  than  Ours,"  "Saturn,"  &c. 


I.—  Strange  Coincidences, 
n.— Coincidences  and  Superstitions, 
ni.—  Gambling  Superstitions. 
IV. — Learning  Languages. 


CONTENTS. 


V. — Strange  Sea  Creatures. 
VI.— The  Origin  of  Whales. 
VII. — Prayer  and  Weather. 


[Double  number,  £O  cents. 

THE    RELIGIONS    OF  THE   ANCIENT   WORLD,  including  Egypt, 
Assyria  and  Babylonia,  Persia,  India,  Phoenicia,  Etruria,  Greece, 

Rome. —  By  GEORGE  RAWLINSON,  M.A.,  Camden  Professor  of  Ancient  History, 
Oxford,  and  Canon  of  Canterbury.— Author  of  "The  Origin  of  Nations,"  "The 
Five  Great  Monarchies,"  &c. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter     I. —  The    Religion    of    the   Ancient 

Egyptians. 
Chapter    H.  — The  Religion  of  the  Assyrians 

and  Babylonians. 
Chapter  HI.  —  The    Religion    of    the    Ancient 

Iranians. 
Chapter  IV.  — The     Religion     of     the    Early 

Sanskritic    Indians. 


Chapter  V.— The  Religion  of  the  Phoenicians 
and  Carthaginians. 

Chapter     VI. —  The  Religion  of   the  Etruscans. 

Chapter  VTL— The  Religion  of  the  Ancient 
Greeks. 

Chapter  VIII.— The  Religion  of  the  Ancient 
Romans. 

Concluding  Remarks. 


No.  63. 

PROGRESSIVE    MORALITY.-An    Essay   in   Ethics.- By  THOMAS 

FOWLER,  M.A.,  LL.D.,  F.S.A.,  President  of  Corpus- Christi  College,  Wykeham 
Professor  of  Logic  in  the  University  of  Oxford. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter      I.  — Introduction.— The    Sanctions    of 

Conduct. 
Chapter    II.  —  The    Moral    Sanction    or    Moral 

Sentiment. —  Its   Functions,  and 

the  Justification  of  its  Claims  to 

Superiority. 


Chapter  III.  — Analysis  and  Formation  of  the 
Moral  Sentiment.— Its  Education 
and  Improvement. 

Chapter  IV.—  The  Moral  Test  and  its  Justification. 

Chapter  V.— The  Practical  Application  of  the 
Moral  Test  to  Existing  Morality. 


THE   HUMBOLDT  PUBLISHING  CO.,  28  Lafayette  Place,  New  York. 


THE     HUMBOLDT     LIBRARY 


No.  64. 

THE    DISTRIBUTION    OF   LIFE,  Animal   and  Vegetable,  in  Space 
and  Time.— By  ALFRED  RUSSEL  WALLACE  and  W.  T.  THISELTON  DYER. 


CONTENTS. 


SECTION  I.— DISTRIBUTION  OF  ANIMALS. 
Geographical  Distribution  of  Land  Animals. 
A.— Vertical  Distribntio'n  of  Animals. 
B. —  Powers  of   Dispersal  of  Animals. 
C. —  Widespread  and  Local  Groups.  [mals. 

D.— Barriers  which  Limit  the  Distribution  of  Ani- 
E.— Zoological  Regions. 

The  Pauearctic  Region. 
The  Ethiopian  Region. 
The  Oriental  Region. 
The  Australian  Region. 
The  Neotropical  Region. 
The  Nearctic  Region. 
Distribution  of  the  Higher  Animals  during  the 

Tertiary  Period. 

A.— Tertiary  Faunas  and  their  Geographical  Rela- 
tions to  those  of  the  six  Zoological  Regions. 
B. —  Birthplace  and  Migrations  of  some  Mamma- 
lian Families  and  Genera. 
Distribution  of  Marine  Animals. 

Foraminifera.  Cirrhipedia. 

Spongida.  Mollnsca. 

Actinozoa.  Fishes. 

Polyzoa.  Marine  Turtles. 

Bchinodermata.  Cetacea. 

Crustacea. 


General    Relations    of    Marine   with   Terrestrial 

Zoological  Regions. 
Distribution  of  Animals  in  Time. 


SECTION  II. — DISTRIBUTION  OF  VEGETABLE  LIFE. 

THE  NORTHERN  FLORA. 
The  Arctic-Alpine  Flora. 
The  Intermediate  or  Temperate  Flora. 
The  Mediterraneo-Caucasian  Flora. 

THE  SOUTHERN  FLORA. 

The  Antarctic-Alpine  Flora. 

The  Australian  Flora. 

The  Andine  Flora. 

The  Mexico-Californian  Flora. 

The  South-African  Flora. 

THK  TROPICAL  FLORA. 

The  Indo-Malayan  Tropical  Flora. 
The  American  Tropical  Flora. 
The  African  Tropical  Flora. 


No.  65. 

CONDITIONS    OF   MENTAL   DEVELOPMENT,  and   Other   Essays. 

By  WILLIAM  KINGDON  CLIFFORD,  F.R.S.,  late  Professor  of  Applied  Mathematics 
in  University  College,  London. 

CONTENTS. 


I.  —  On    some   of    the    Conditions   of    Mental 

Development. 

II.  —  Ou  the  Aims  and  Instruments  of  Scientific 
Thought. 


HI. — A  Lecture  on  Atoms. 

IV.—  The  First  and  the  Last  Catastrophe.— A  crit- 
icism on  some  recent  speculations  about 
the  duration  of  the  universe. 


No.  66. 

TECHNICAL  EDUCATION,  AND 

THOMAS  HENRY  HUXLEY,  F.R.S. 


OTHER     ESSAYS.-By 


I. — Technical  Education. 
H. — The  Connection  of  the  Biological  Sciences 

with   Medicine. 
III.— Joseph  Priestly. 


CONTENTS. 

IV. — On  Sensation  and  the  Unity  of  Structure  of 

Sensiferous  Organs. 

V. —  On  Certain  Errors  respecting  the  Structure 
of  the  Heart  attributed  to  Aristotle. 


THE    BLACK    DEATH:    An   Account  of  the   Deadly  Pestilence  of 

the  Fourteenth  Century.— By  J-  F-  C.  HECKER,  M.D.,  Professor  in  the 
Frederick  William  University,  Berlin;  Member  of  various  learned  societies  in 
London,  Lyons,  Netf  York,  Philadelphia,  &c. —  Translated  for  the  Sydenbam 
Society,  of  London,  by  B.  G.  BABINGTON,  M.D.,  F.R.S. 


Chapter      I. —  General  Observations. 
Chapter    II. — The  Disease. 
Chapter  III. — Causes. —  Spread. 
Chapter  IV.— Mortality. 
Chapter    V.— Moral  Effects. 
Chapter  VI. — Physicians. 


CONTENTS. 

Appendix. 

I.— The  Ancient  Song  of  the  Flagellants. 
II. —  Examination  of   the  Jews    accused  of 
Poisoning  the  Wells. 


Published    semi-monthly.  —  $3  a  year.—  Single    numbers,  15  cents. 


OF    POPULAR    SCIENCE. 


Special  number,  1O  cents 

LAWS   IN   GENERAL,  AND  THE  ORDER  OF  THEIR  DISCOVERY 

THE    ORIGIN    OF  ANIMAL  WORSHIP.- POLITICAL   FETICHISM' 

Three  Essays  by  HEHBERT  SPENCER. 

___|rk ..,_..  [Double  number,  3O  cents. 

FETICH  ISM.- A  Contribution  to  Anthropology  and  the   History  of 

Religion.- By  FRITZ  SCHULTZE,  Dr.  Phil.- Translated  from  the  German  by 
J.  FITZGERALD,  M.A. 


Chapter 

2.' 
3. 
4. 
5. 


CONTENTS. 
Chapter      I.— Introductory. 

Chapter    II.— The  Mind  o'f  the  Savage  in  its  In- 
tellectual  and  Moral  Aspects. 

1.  The  Intellect  of  the  Savage. 

2.  The  Morality  of  the  Savage. 

3.  Conclusion. 

Chapter  in.— The  Relation  between  the  Savage 
Mind  and  its  Object. 

1.  The  Value  of  Objects.  Meets. 

2.  The  Anthropathic  Apprehension  of  Ob- 

3.  The  Causal  Connection  of  Objects. 
Chapter  IV.— Fetichism  as  a  Religion. 

1.  The  Belief  in  Fetiches. 

2.  The  Range  of  Fetich  Influence. 

3.  The  Religiositv  of  Fetich  Worshipers. 

4.  Worship  and  Sacrifice. 

5.  Fetich  Priesthoods. 

6.  Fetichism  among  Non-Savages. 


7. 
Chapter 

2! 
3. 
4. 
5. 
6. 
7. 

Chapter 
I. 


V.—  The  Various  Objects  of  Fetich  Wor- 
Stones  as  Fetiches.  rgllm 

Mountains  as  Fetiches. 
Water  as  a  Fetich. 
Wind  and  Fire  as  Fetiches. 
Plants  as  Fetiches. 
Animals  as  Fetiches. 
Men  as  Fetiches. 

VI.—  The  Highest  Grade  of  Fetichism. 
The  New  Object. 


The  Worship  of  the  Stars. 
The  Transition  to  Sun  -Worship. 
The  Worship  of  the  Sun. 
The  Worship  of  the  Heavens. 
VIL—  The  Aim  of  Fetichism. 
Retrospect.—  2.  The  New  Problem. 


No.  70. 

ESSAYS,  SPECULATIVE 


AND     PRACTICAL.- By  HERBERT  SPENCER. 


CONTENTS. 


I.— Specialized  Administration, 
n.— "The  Collective  Wisdom." 
III. — Morals  and  Moral  Sentiments. 


IV.— Reasons  for  Dissenting  from  the  Philosophy 

of  Comte. 
V.— What  is  Electricity? 


No.  71. 


ANTHROPOLOGY.— By  DANIEL  WILSON,  LL.D.,  author  of  "Prehistoric  Man.' 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter     I. —  Scope  of  the  Science. 
Chapter   II.— Man's  Place  in  Nature. 
Chapter  III.— Origin  of  Man. 
Chapter  IV. —  Races  of  Mankind. 


Chapter     V.— Antiquity  of  Man. 

Chapter   VI. — Language. 

Chapter  VH. — Development  of  Civilization. 


TO   WHICH    IS    ADDED 


ARCHEOLOGY.  —  By  E.  B.  TYLOR,  F.R.S.,  author  of  "The    Early  History  of 
Mankind,"  "Primitive  Culture,"  &c. 

No.  72. 

THE    DANCING     MANIA    OF    THE     MIDDLE    AGES.- By  J.  F.  c. 

HECKER,  M.D.,  Professor  in  the  Frederick  William  University,  Berlin;  author  of 
"The  Black  Death."— Translated  by  B.  G.  BABINGTON,  M.D.,  F.R.S. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter   I. — The  Dancing  Mania  in  Germany  and 

the  Netherlands. 
Sect.  1. — St.  John's  Dance. 
Sect.  2.— St.  Vitus's  Dance. 
Sect.  3. —  Causes. 

Sect.  4. —  More  Ancient  Dancing  Plagues. 
Sect.  5. — Physicians. 

Sect.  6.—  Decline  and  Termination  of  the 
Dancing  Plague. 


Chapter  n. —  The  Dancing  Mania  in  Italy. 

Sect.  1.— Tarantism. 

Sect.  2. —  Most  Ancient  Traces. — Causes. 

Sect.  3. —  Increase. 

Sect.  4. —  Idiosyncracies.— Music. 

Sect.  5. — Hysteria. 

Sect.  6. — Decrease. 
Chapter  III.— The  Dancing  Masiia  in  Abyssinia, 

Sect.  1.— Ti^retier. 
Chapter  IV.— Sympathy. 


THE   HUMBOLDT  PUBLISHING  CO.,  28  Lafayette  Place,  New  York. 


THE     HUMBOLDT     LIBRARY 


EVOLUTION    IN    HISTORY,  LANGUAGE,  AND    SCIENCE. 

Four  addresses  delivered  at  the  London  Crystal  Palace  School  of  Art,  Science, 
and  Literature. 
I. 

Past  and  Present  in  the  East. —  -A-  Parallelism  demonstrating  the  principle 
of  Causal  Evolution,  and  the  necessity  of  the  study  of  General  History. — 
By  G.  G.  ZERFFI,  D.Ph.,  Fellow  of  the  Royal  Historical  Society  of  London. 

A  Plea  for  a   More   Scientific  Study  of  Geography.— By  Rev.  w.  A. 

HALES,  M.A.,  formerly  Exhibitioner  of  Caius  College,  Cambridge. 
III. 

Hereditary  Tendencies    as    Exhibited    in    History.  — BJ  HENRY  ELLIOT 

MALDEN,  M.A.,  F.R.H.S.,  Trinity  Hall,  Cambridge. 
IV. 

Vicissitudes  of  the  English  Language.  — By  Rev.  ROBINSON  THORNTON, 
D.D.,  F.R.H.S.,  formerly  Fellow  of  St.  John's  College,  Oxford. 

Nos.  74,  75,  76,  77  (double  number). 

THE    DESCENT    OF    MAN,    AND    SELECTION     IN     RELATION 

TO     SEX.  — By  CHARLES    DARWIN. — With  Illustrations.— New  Edition,  Re- 
vised  and   Augmented. 

CONTENTS. 


PART  I. 
THE  DESCENT  OR  ORIGIN  OP  MAN. 

Chapter  I. — The  Evidence  of  the  Descent  of 
Man  from  some  Lower  Form. 

Chapter  II. —  On  the  Manner  of  Development  of 
Man  from  some  Lower  Form. 

Chapter  III. —  Comparison  of  the  Mental  Powers 
of  Man  and  the  Lower  Animals. 

Chapter  IV. — Comparison  of  the  Mental  Powers 
of  Man  and  the  Lower  Animals 
(continued). 

Chapter  V. —  On  the  Development  of  the  Intel- 
lectual and  Moral  Faculties  dur- 
ing Primeval  and  Civilized  Times 

Chapter  VI. —  On  the  Affinities  and  Genealogy  of 
Man. 

Chapter  VTI. — On  the  Races  of  Man. 


X. — Secondary  Sexual  Characters  of 

Insects. 

XI. —  Insects  (continued)— Order  Lepi- 
doptera(butterflies  and  moths) 
XII. —  Secondary  Sexual  Characters  of 
Fishes,  Amphibians,  and  Rep- 
tiles. 
XIII. —  Secondary  Sexual  Characters  of 

Birds. 

XIV.— Birds  (continued). 
XV. —  Birds  (continued). 
XVI.— Birds  (concluded). 
XVII. —  Secondary  Sexual  Characters  of 

Mammals. 

Chapter  XVIII. —  Secondary  Sexual  Characters  of 
Mammals  (continued). 


Chapter 
Chapter 
Chapter 

Chapter 

Chapter 
Chapter 
Chapter 
Chapter 


PART  III. 
SEXUAL  SELECTION  IN  RELATION  TO  MAN, 

AND  CONCLUSION. 
Chapter     XIX. —  Secondary  Sexual  Characters  of 

Man. 

Chapter       XX. —  Secondary  Sexual  Characters  of 
Man  (continued).  [sion. 

Chapter     XXI. —  General  Summarv  and  Conelu- 


PART  EL 

SEXUAL  SELECTION. 

Chapter     VIII. — Principles  of  Sexual  Selection. 
Chapter        IX. — Secondary  Sexual  Character  in 
the  Lower  Classes  of  the  An- 
imal Kingdom. 

»*»  Numbers  74,  75,  76,  are  single  numbers  (15  cents  each) ;   Number  77  is  a  double  number  (30  cents). 
Price  of  the  entire  work  75  cents. 

HISTORICAL  SKETCH    OF  THE    DISTRIBUTION    OF  LAND    IN 
ENGLAND,  with  Suggestions  for  some  Improvement  in  the  law. 

By  WILLIAM  LLOYD  BIRKBECK,  M.A.,  Master  of  Downing  College,  and  Downing 
Professor  of  the  Laws  of  England  in  the  University  of  Cambridge. 

CONTENTS. 

XIII. 


PART  I. 
I. —  Anglo-Saxon  Agriculture. —  Geneats    and 

Geburs.— Villani. 

II. — Agriculture  after  the  Conquest. — Villein- 
age.— Copyholders.  — Continental  Serfs. 
III. — Origin  of  Large  Properties. —  Estates  of 
Anglo-Saxon    Nobility.  —  Evidence    of 
Domesday. 

IV.— The  Soke.— Socage  Tenure. 
V. —  Agricultural  Communities. 
VI.— Mr.  Seebohm. 

VII.— The  First  Taxation  of  Land.— The  Hide. 
VIII.— Saxon  Law  of  Succession  to  Land. 
IX. —  Effect  of  the  Norman  Conquest  on  the 

Distribution  of  Land. 
X. — Norman  Law  of  Succession. 
XL— Strict  Entails.— The  Statute  "De  Donis 

Condi  tionalibns . ' ' 
XII.— Effects  of  Strict  Entails.— Scotch  Entails. 


Relaxation  of  Strict  Entails. — Common 

Recoveries. 
XIV.— Henry  VII.  and  his  Nobles.— The  Statute 

of  Fines. 

XV.— Strict  Settlements. 
XVI.— Effect  of  Strict  Settlements  of  Land.— 

Mr.  Thorold  Rogers. 

XVII. — Trustees    to    Preserve    Contingent    Re- 
mainders. 

XVIII.— Powers   of   Sale. 

XIX. —  Inclosure  of  Waste  Lands.  —  Mr.  John 
Walter. — Formation  of  a  Peasant  Pro- 
prietary. _ 

PART  II. 

I. —  Amendment  of  Law  of  Primogeniture. 
II. —  Proposed   System   of  Registration. 
III.— Modern   Registration  Acts. 
IV. —  The  Present  General  Registration  Act 


Published    semi-monthly.—  $3  a  year.—  Single    numbers,  15  cents. 


OF    POPULAR    SCIENCE. 


SCIENTIFIC    ASPECTS    OF    SOME    FAMILIAR    THINGS.- By  w. 

M.  WILLIAMS,  F.R.S.,  F.C.S. 


CONTENTS. 


I. —  On  the   Social  Benefits  of  Paraffin. 
II.— The  Formation  of  Coal. 
HI. —  The  Chemistry  of  Bog  Reclamation. 
IV.—  The  Coloring  of  Green  Tea. 

V. —  "Iron-Pilings'1  in  Tea. 
VI.— The  Origin  of  Soap. 


VII.— The  Action  of  Frost  in  Water-Pipe*  and 

on  Building  Materials. 
Vni.— Pire-Clay  and  Anthracite. 
IX.— Count  Rumford's  Cooking- Stoves. 
X.— The  Air  of  Stove- Heated  Rooms. 
XI.— Domestic  Ventilation. 


No-  80-  Double  number,  3O  cents. 

CHARLES    DARWIN:    HIS    LIFE   AND   WORK.- By  GRANT  ALLEN. 

CONTENTS. 


Chapter     I. — The  World  into  which  Darwin  was 

born. 

Chapter  II. — Charles  Darwin  and  his  Antecedents. 
Chapter  III. — Early  Days. 
Chapter  IV. —  Darwin's  Wander- Years. 
Chapter   V. —  The  Period  of  Incubation. 
Chapter  VI.— "The  Origin  of  Species." 


Chapter   VII.— The  Darwinian  Revolution  begin*. 
Chapter  VIII.— The  Descent  of  Man. 
Chapter     DC.— The  Theory  of  Courtship. 
Chapter       X.— Victory  and  Rest. 
Chapter     XI.— Darwin's  Place  in  the  Evolution- 
ary Movement. 
Chapter   XII.— The  Net  Result. 


No.  81. 

THE     MYSTERY    OF    MATTER:     and 
THE    PHILOSOPHY    OF    IGNORANCE. 


•By  J.  ALLANSON  PICTON. 


No.  82. 

ILLUSIONS     OF    THE     SENSES:    AND    OTHER    ESSAYS.-By 

RICHARD  A.  PROCTOR. 


I. — Illusions  of  the  Senses. 
II. — Animals  of  the  Present  and  the  Past. 
III.— Life  in  Other  Worlds. 
IV. —  Earthquakes. 


CONTENTS. 

V.— Our  Dual  Brain. 
VI.— A  New  Star  in  a  Star-Cloud. 
VII. —  Monster  Sea-Serpents. 
VIII.— The  Origin  of  Comets. 


No.  83. 

PROFIT-SHARING   BETWEEN   CAPITAL  AND  LABOR.-Six  Essays. 

By  SEDLEY  TAYLOR,  M.A.,  late  Fellow  of  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  Eng. 


Essay     I. — Profit-Sharing  in  the  Maison  Leclaire. 
Essay   II. —  Profit-Sharing  in  Industry. 
Essay  III. — Profit-Sharing  in  Industry  (continued). 
Essay  IV. — Profit-sharing  in  the  Paris  and  Orleans 
Railway  Company. 


CONTENTS. 

Essay  V. — Profit-Sharing  in  Agriculture. 

Appendix  to  Essay  V.  —  Mr.  Vande- 
leur's  Irish  Experiment. 

Essay  VL— Profit-Sharing  in  Distributive  Enter- 
prise. 


No.  84. 

STUDIES    OF    ANIMATED    NATURE.- Four  Essays,  viz., 
i. 

Bats.— B7  w-  s-  DALLAS,  F.L.S. 

Dragon-Flies.— By  W.  S.  DALLAS,  F.L.S. 

The  Glow-worm   and   other  Phosphorescent  Animals.— By  G.  G.  CHIS- 

HOLM,    M.A.,    B.Sc. 

TV. 
Minute    Organisms.  — By  FREDERICK  P.  BALKWILL. 

No.  85. 

THE    ESSENTIAL   NATURE    OF   RELIGION.-By  J.  ALLANSON  PICTON, 
author  of  "The  Mystery  of  Matter,"  &c. 


I Religion  and  Freedom  of  Thought. 

II.— The  Evolution  of  Religion.— Fetich 


CONTENTS. 


III. — Nature  -Worship. 


;hism. 


IV.— Prophetic  Religious. 
V.— Religious  Dogma.— The  Future  of  Religion. 


THE   HUMBOLDT  PUBLISHING  CO.,  28  Lafayette  Place,  Xew  York. 


THE     HUMBOLDT     LIBRARY 


No.  86. 

THE     UNSEEN     UNIVERSE.— By  WILLIAM  KINGDOM  CLIFFORD,  F.E.S. 

TO   WHICH    IS    ADDED 

THE    PHILOSOPHY  OF  THE    PURE   SCIENCES.- By  WILLIAM  KING- 

DON  CLIFFORD,  F.R.S. 


CONTENTS. 


I. —  Statement  of  the  Question. 
IE.— Knowledge  and  Feeling. 


III. —  The  Postulates  of  the  Science  of  Space. 
IV. — The  Universal  Statements  of  Arithmetic. 


No.  87. 

THE      MORPHINE      HABIT    (MORPHINOMANIA).- Three  Lectures  by 
Professor  B.  BALL,  M.D.,  of  the  Paris  Faculty  of  Medicine. 


CONTENTS. 


I. — Morphinomania.  —  General     Description. — 

Effects  of  the  Abuse  of  Morphine. 
II. —  Morphinomania.  —  Effects     of    Abstinence 
from  Morphine. 


III. —  Morphinomania. — Diagnosis,  Prognosis,  and 
Treatment. 


To  which  is  appended  four  other  lectures,  viz., 


!•— The  Border-Land  of  Insanity. 
II.— Cerebral   Dualism. 


ill.—  Prolonged    Dreams. 
rv"-—  Insanity   in   Twins. 


No.  88. 

SCIENCE  AND  CRIME,  AND   OTHER   ESSAYS.- By  ANDREW  WILSON, 

F.E.S.E. 


CONTENTS. 


L—  The  Earliest  Known  Life-Relic. 
II. —  About  Kangaroos. 
III.—  On  Giants. 


IV.—  The  Polity  «f  a  Pond. 
V. —  Skates  and  Rays. 


VI. —  Leaves. 


No.  89. 

THE    GENESIS 


OF    SCIENCE.  — By  HERBERT  SPENCER. 


TO    WHICH    IS    ADDED 


OF   SPECIES."-By 


THE    COMING    OF  AGE    OF  "THE    ORIGIN 

Professor  THOMAS  HENRY  HUXLEY,  F.R.S. 

No.  90. 

NOTES  ON   EARTHQUAKES:  with  Thirteen  Miscellaneous  Essays. 

By  RICHARD  A.  PROCTOR. 


CONTENTS. 


I. — Notes  on  Earthquakes. 

II. — Photographing  Fifteen   Million  Stars. 
III.— The  Story  of  the  Moon. 
IV.— The  Earth's  Past. 

V.— The  Story  of  the  Earth. 
VI.— The  Falls  of  Niagara. 
VII.— The  Unknowable. 


Vni.— Sun  -Worship. 
IX. —  Herbert  Spencer  on  Priesthoods. 
X.— The  Star  of  Bethlehem  and  a  Bible  Comet. 
XI.— An  Historical  Puzzle. 
XII. —  Galileo,  Darwin,  and  the  Pope. 
XIII. —  Science  and  Politics. 
XIV.— Parents  and  Children. 


No.  91.  Double  number,  3O  cents. 

THE     RISE     OF    UNIVERSITIES.—  By  S.  S.  LAURIE,  LL.D.,  Professor  of  the 
Institutes  and  History  of  Education  in  the  University  of  Edinburgh. 


I.— The  Romano-Hellenic  Schools  and  their 

Decline. 
II. — Influence  of  Christianity  on  Education,  and 

Rise  of  Christian  Schools, 
m. —  Charlemagne  and  the  Ninth  Century. 
IV.— InnerWork  of  Christian  Schools  (450-1100). 
V. — Tenth  and  Eleventh  Centuries. 
VI— The  Rise  of  Universities  (A.  D.  1100). 
VII.— Th  3  First  Universities.— The  Schola  Saler- 

nitana  and  the  University  of  Naples. 
VHI.— The  University  of  Bologna. 


CONTENTS. 

IX- 
X.- 


XI.— 

XII.— 
XIII.— 

xrv.- 

XV.- 


The  University  of  Paris. 

The  Constitution    of  Universities.  —  The 

terms  "Studium  Generale"  and  "Uni- 

versitas.'' 
Students,  their  Numbers  aiid  Discipline. — 

Privileges  of  Universities. — Faculties. 
Graduation. 

Oxford  and  Cambridge. 
The  University  of  Prague. 
University  Studies  and  the  Conditions  of 

Graduation. 


Published    semi-montlily.—  $3  a  year.—  Single    numbers,  15  cents. 


OF    POPULAR    SCIENCE. 


No.  92. 

THE    FORMATION    OF  VEGETABLE    MOULD 
Action    of    Earthworms,  with   Observations 

By  CHARLES  DARWIN,  LL.D.,  F.R.S. 

CONTENTS. 


Double  number,  3O  cent*. 

THROUGH    THE 
on    their   Habits.- 


Chapter     I.— Habits  of  Worms. 

Chapter   II.— Habits  of  Worms  (continued). 

Chapter  III.— The  Amount  of  Fiiie  Earth  brought 
up  by  Worms  to  the  surface. 

Chapter  IV. —  The  Part  which  Worms  have  played 
in  the  Burial  of  Ancient  Build- 
ings. 


Chapter     V.— The  Action  of  Worms  in  the  Denu 

da  t  ion  of  the  Land. 
Chapter   VI.— The  Denudation  of  the  Land  (eon- 

tinufd). 
Chapter  Vn.— Conclusion. 


No.  93. 

SCIENTIFIC     METHODS 

MOUNT  BLEYER,  M.D. 


I. — General  Review  of  the  Subject. 
II. —  Death  by  Hanging. 
III.— Death  by  Electricity. 
IV. —  Death  by  Morphine  Injection. 


OF     CAPITAL 


CONTENTS. 


Special  number,  1O  cents. 

PUNISHMENT.-By  J. 


V.— Death  by  Chloroform. 
VI.— Death  by  Prussia  Acid. 
VII.— Objections  Considered. 


TO   WHICH    IS    ADDED 


INFLICTION    OF   THE    DEATH    PENALTY.- By  PARK  BENJAMIN. 


No.  94. 

THE    FACTORS 


OF  ORGANIC    EVOLUTION.-By  HERBERT  SPENCER. 


No.  95. 

THE     DISEASES     OF    PERSONALITY.-ByTH.  RIBOT.- Translated  from 
the  French  by  J.  FITZGERALD,  M.A. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter     I. —  Introduction. 
Chapter   II. —  Organic  Disturbance. 
Chapter  III. — Affective  Disturbance. 


Chapter  IV. —  Intellective  Disturbance. 
Chapter    V. —  Dissolution  of  Personality. 
Chapter  VI. —  Conclusion. 


So.  96. 

A    HALF-CENTURY    OF    SCIENCE.- By  THOMAS  HENRY  HUXLEY,  F.R.S. 

TO    WHICH    IS    ADDED 

THE   PROGRESS  OF  SCIENCE  from  1836  to  1886-By GRANT 


No.  97. 

THE     PLEASURES 

F.R.S.,  D.C.L.,  LL.D. 


OF     LIFE.  — By  Sir  JOHN   LUBBOCK,  Bart.,  M.P., 


Chapter     I. — The  Duty  of  Happiness. 
Chapter   II. — The  Happiness  of  Duty. 
Chapter  III.— A  Song  of  Books. 
Chapter  IV. — The  Choice  of  Books. 
Chapter    V. —  The  Blessing  of  Friends. 


PART  FIRST. 
CONTENTS. 

Chapter  VI.— The  Value  of  Time. 

Chapter  VII.— The  Pleasures  of  Travel. 
Chapter  VIII.— The  Pleasures  of  Home. 

Chapter  IX.  —  Science . 

Chapter  X. —  Education. 


*%  PAKT  SECOND.— For  the  contents  of  Part  Second  see  No.  Ill  of  this  Catalogue. 


COSMIC     EMOTION.-Aiso,  THE    TEACHING 

WILLIAM  KINGDON  CLIFFORD,  F.R.S. 


[Special  number,   1O   cents. 

OF    SCIENCE.-By 


NATURE-STUDIES.  — Four  Essays  by  various  authors,  viz., 
!•— Flame.— By  Prof.  F.  R.  EATON  LO\VE. 
II-— Birds   of  Passage.— By  Dr.  ROBERT  BROWN,  F.L.S. 
III.— Snow.— By  GEORGE  G.  CHISHOLM,  F.R.G.S. 
IV.— Caves.— By  JAMES  DALLAS,  F.L.S. 

THE   HUMBOLDT  PUBLISHING  CO.,  28  Lafayette  Place.  New  York. 


THE     HUMBOLDT     LIBRARY 


No.  100. 

SCIENCE     AND      POETRY,    AND     OTHER      ESSAYS.-By 

ANDREW  WILSON,  F.R.S.E. 

I. —  Science     and     Poetry. —  -A.  Valedictory  Address  to  a  Literary  Society. 

n.— The    Place,   Method,   and   Advantages   of   Biology   in    Ordi- 
nary  Education. 

III.— Science -Culture      for     the      Masses.  — An  Opening    Lecture   at   a 
"People's   College." 

IV.— The    Law  of    Likeness,   and    its    Working. 

No.  101. 

AESTHETICS.— By  JAMES  SULLY,  M.A. 


CONTENTS. 


(A). —  Metaphysical  Problems. 
(B).— Scientific  Problems. 
(C).— History  of  Systems. 

DREAMS.— B7  JAMES  SULLY,  M.A. 


II. — German  Writers  on  Esthetics. 
HI.— French  Writers  on  Esthetics. 
IV.— Italian  and  Dutch  Writers  on  ^Esthetics. 
V.— English  Writers  on  Esthetics. 


CONTENTS. 


The  Dream  as  Immediate  Objective  Experience. 
The  Dream  as  a  Communication  from  a  Super- 
natural Being. 
Modern  Theory  of  Dreams. 


The  Sources  of  Dream-Materials. 
The  Order  of  Dream-Combinations. 
The  Objective  Reality  and  Intensity  of  Dream- 
Imaginations. 

TO   WHICH    IS    ADDED 


ASSOCIATION     OF     IDEAS.— By  Prof.  GEORGE  GROOM  ROBERTSON. 

No.  102. 

ULTIMATE     FINANCE.-A  True  Theory   ot    Co-operation. 

WILLIAM   NELSON   BLACK. 

PART  FIRST. 

CONTENTS. 


By 


Chapter     L— The  Origin  of  Social   Discontent. 

Chapter   II.— Definition  of  Capital. 

Chapter  III. —  Men  not  Capitalists    because   not 

Creators  of  Capital. 

Chapter  IV. —  Social  Results  Considered. 
Chapter  V. —  The  Evolution  of  Finance. 
Chapter  VI. — Every  Man  his  own  Householder. 


Chapter   VII. —  Illustrations  from  Real  Life. 
Chapter  VIII.— Effects  of  Material  Growth. 
Chapter     IX. —  Objections   Answered. 
Chapter       X. — Some  Political  Reflections. 

Appendix. — An  Act  for  the  Incorporation  of 
Bond  Insurance  Companies. 


»*¥  PART  SECOND. — For  the  contents  cf  Part  Second  see  No.  107  of  this  Catalogue. 
Ko.  103. 

i- The   Coming  Slavery.—  -•  The   Sins  of  Legislators.— 3.  The   Great 

Political    Superstition.— Three  Essays  by  HERBERT  SPENCER. 


No.  104. 

TROPICAL 


AFRICA.— By  HENRY   DRUMMOND,   LL.D.,   F.R.S.E.,   L.G-.S. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter     I.— The  Water-Route  to  the  Heart  of 

Africa.  —  The    Rivers    Zambesi 

and  Shire. 
Chapter    II. — The  East  African  Lake  Country. — 

Lakes  Shirwa  and  Nyassa. 
Chapter  III.— The  Aspect  of  the  Heart  of  Africa. 

The  Country  and  its  People. 
Chapter  IV. — The  Heart-Disease  of  Africa. —  Its 

Pathology  and  Cure. 


Chapter  V. — Wanderings  on  the  Nyassa-Tangan- 
vika  Plateau.  —  A  Traveler's 
Diary. 

Chapter     VI.—  The  White  Ant.— A  Theory- 
Chapter   Vn.— Mimicry.— The  Ways  of  African 

Insects. 

Chapter  VIIL— A  Geological  Sketch. 
Chapter  IX. —  A  Political  Warning. 
Chapter  X. — A  Meteorological  Note. 


Published    semi-moiitlily. —  $3  a  year. —  Single    numbers,  15  cents. 


OF    POPULAR    SCIENCE. 


No.  105. 

FREEDOM 


IN  SCIENCE  AND  TEACHING.- By  ERNST  HAECKEL, 
Professor  in  the  University  of  Jena.  — With  a  Prefatory  Note  by  Professor 
THOMAS  HENRY  HUXLEY,  F.R.S. 

CONTENTS. 


Chapter     I. — Development  and  Creation. 
Chapter   II. — Certain  Proofs  of  the  Doctrine  of 

Descent. 
Chapter  IH.— The    Skull   Theory  and    the    Ape 

Theory. 
Chapter  IV.— The    Celf-Soul    and    the    Cellular 

Psychology. 


Chapter     V. — The   Genetic   and   the   Dogmatic 
Methods  of  Teaching. 


VI.— The    Doctrine    of    Descent    and 
Social  Democracy. 


Chapter 

Chapter    VU. —  Ignorabimus  et  Restringamur. 


No.  106. 


FORCE    AND    ENERGY.-A  Theory  of  Dynamics.- By  GRANT  ALLEN. 


CONTENTS. 
PART  I.— ABSTRACT  OR  ANALYTIC. 


Chapter  I.— Power. 

Chapter  II. — Force. 

Chapter  III. — Energy. 

Chapter  IV.— The  Species  of  Force. 

Chapter  V. —  The  Species  of  Energy. 

Chapter  VI.— The  Modes  of  Energy. 

Chapter  VII.— The  Kinds  of  Kinesis. 
Chapter  VIII.— The  Persistence  of  Force. 

Chapter  IX. — The  Conservation  of  Energy. 


Chapter        X.— The  Indestructibility  of  Power. 
Chapter      XI. —  The    Mutual     Interference    of 

Forces. 

Chapter     XII. — The  Suppression  of  Energies. 
Chapter  XIII. —  Liberating  Energies. 
Chapter   XIV. —  Miscellaneous  Illustrations. 
Chapter     XV. — The  Dissipation  of  Energy. 
Chapter   XVI.— The  Nature  of  Energy. 
Chapter  XVII.— The  Nature  of  Motion. 


PART  II.— CONCRETE  OR  SYNTHETIC. 


I. —  Dynamical  Formula  of  the  Uni- 
II.— The  Sidereal  System.         [verse. 
III.— The  Solar  System. 
IV.— The  Earth. 


Chapter       V.— Organic  Life. 
Chapter     VI. — The  Vegetal  Organism. 
Chapter   VII.— The  Animal  Organism. 
Chapter  Vni.— General  View  of  Mundane 


No.  107. 

ULTIMATE        FINANCE.- A    True    Theory     of     Wealth.- By 

WILLIAM   NELSON   BLACK. 

PART    SECOND. 
CONTENTS. 


Chapter     I.— The  Origin  of  Property. 

Chapter    II.— The  Evolution  of  Wealth. 

Chapter  in.— Banking,  and  its  Relation  to  Accu- 
mulation. 

Chapter  IV.— The  Relation  of  Insurance  to  Accu- 
mulation. 


Chapter  V.— The  Creative  and  Benevolent  Feat- 
ures of  Fortune-Hunting. 

Chapter  VI.  — Wealth  an  Enforced  Contributor 
to  the  Public  Welfare. 

Chapter  VII.— The  Impairment  and  Destruction 
of  Property. 


%  PART  FIRST.— For  the  contents  of  Part  First  see  No.  102  of  this  Catalogue. 

No.  108  is  a  double  number.  3O  cents. 


No.  108  and  No.  109. 


ENGLISH:    PAST    AND     PRESENT.- A  Series  of  Eight  Lectures  by 
EICHARD    CHENEVIX   TRENCH,  D.D.,  Archbishop  of  Dublin. 


CONTENTS. 


Lecture     I.— The   Enslish  Vocabulary. 
Lecture   II.— English  as  it  might    have  been. 
Lecture  III.— Gains  of  the  English  Language. 
Lecture  IV.— Gains  of  the  English  Language 

(continued). 

Lecture    V.— Diminutions  of  the  English  Lan- 
guage. 


Lecture  VI.— Diminutions  of  the  English  Lan- 
guage (continued). 

Lecture  VU.—  Changes  in  the  Meaning  of  English 
Words. 

Lecture  VHI.— Changes  in  the  Spelling  of  English 
Words. 

Index  of  Subjects.—  Index  of  Words  and  Phrases. 


THE   HUMBOLDT  PUBLISHING  CO.,  28  Lafayette  Place,  New  York. 


THE    HUMBOLDT    LIBRARY 


No.  110.  Double  number,  30  cents. 

THE    STORY   OF  CREATION.-A  Plain  Account  of  Evolution. 

By  EDWARD  CLODD,  author  of  " The  Childhood  of  the  World,"  "The  Childhood 
of  Religions,"  "The  Birth  and  Growth  of  Myths,"  &c. — Eighty  Illustrations. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter     I. —  THE  UNIVERSE:  ITS  CONTENTS. 

1.  Matter.  a.  Force. 

2.  Power.  b.  Energy. 

Chapter   II. —  DISTRIBUTION    OP    MATTER    IN 
SPACE. 

Chapter  III.— THE  SUN  AND  PLANETS. 
The  Earth:    General  Features. 

Chapter  IV.— THE  PAST  LJFE-HISTOBY  OF  THE 

EARTH. 
Character  and  Contents  of  Rocks  of 

1.  Primary  Epoch.  3.  Tertiary  Epoch. 

2.  Secondary  Epoch.         4.  Quaternary  Epoch. 

Chapter     V.— PRESENT  LIFE-FORMS. 
Physical  Constituents  and  Unity. 


A.  Plants. 
1.  Flowerless. 

B.  Animals. 

1.  Protozoa. 

2.  Ccelenterata. 

3.  Echinodermata. 


2.  Flowering. 

4.  Annulosa. 

5.  Mollusca. 

6.  Vertebrata. 


Chapter     VI. — THE   UNIVERSE:    MODE    OF   ITS 
BECOMING  AND  GROWTH. 

1.  Inorganic  Evolution.        3.  Evolution    of    the 

2.  Evolution  of  the  So-  Earth. 

lar  System. 

Chapter  VII.— THE  ORIGIN  OF  LIFE. 
Time.— Place.—  Mode. 


Chapter  VIII.— THE  ORIGIN  OF  LIFE-FORMS. 
Priority  of    Plant  or  Animal. 
Cell-Structure  and  Development. 

Chapter     IX. — THE  ORIGIN  OF  SPECIES. 
Argument : 

1.  No  two  individuals  of  the  same  species  are  alike. 

Each  tends  to  vary. 

2.  Variations  are  transmitted,  and  therefore  tend 

to  become  permanent. 

3.  Man  takes  advantage  of  these  transmitted  un- 

likenesses  to  produce  new  varieties  of  plants 
and  animals. 

4.  More  organisms  are  born  than  survive. 

5.  The  result  is  obvious :  a  ceaseless  struggle  for 

place  and  food. 

6.  Natural  selection  tends  to  maintain  the  balance 

between  living  things  and  their  surround- 
ings. These  surroundings  change ;  theref ore 
living  things  must  adapt  themselves  thereto, 
or  perish. 

Chapter    X.— PROOFS  OF  THE  DERIVATION  OF 
SPECIES. 

1.  Embryology.  4.  Succession  in  Time. 

2.  Morphology.  5.  Distribution  in  Space. 

3.  Classification.  Objections. 

Chapter    XI. —  SOCIAL  EVOLUTION. 

1.  Evolution  of  Mind.        4.  Evolution  of  Morals. 

2.  Evolution  of  Society.     5.  Evolution  of  Theol- 

3.  Evolution  of  Language,  ogy. 

Arts,  and  Science.        Summary. 


No.  111. 

THE     PLEASURES 

F.R.S.,  D.C.L.,  LL.D. 


Chapter      I. —  Ambition. 

Chapter  II.— Wealth. 

Chapter  in.— Health. 

Chapter  IV. — Love. 
Chapter     V.— Art. 

Chapter  VL—  Poetry. 
Chapter  VII.— Music. 


OF     LIFE.  — B7  Sir  JOHN    LUBBOCK,  Bart.,  M.P., 


PART    SECOND. 
CONTENTS. 

Chapter  VIII.— The  Beauties  of  Nature. 
Chapter     IX.— The  Troubles  of  Life. 
Chapter       X. —  Labor  and  Rest. 
Chapter     XI. —  Religion. 
Chapter   XII.— The  Hope  of  Progress. 
Chapter  XIII.— The  Destiny  of  Man. 


»*»  PART  FIRST.— For  the  contents  of  Part  First  see  No.  97  of  this  Catalogue. 
No.  112. 

PSYCHOLOGY    OF    ATTENTION.— By  TH.  RIBOT.— Translated  from  the 
French  by  J.  FITZGERALD,  M.A. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter  I. —  Purpose  of  this  treatise:  study  of 
the  mechanism  of  Attention. — 
Attention  defined. 

Chapter  II. —  Spontaneous  or  Natural  Attention. 
Its  cause  always  affective  states. 
Its  physical  manifestations. — 
Attention  simply  the  subjective 
side  of  the  manifestations  that 
express  it.  —  Origin  of  Sponta- 
neous Attention. 

Chapter  HI. — Voluntary  or  Artificial  Attention. 
How  it  is  produced. —  The  three 
principal  periods  of  its  genesis: 


Chapter  IV.. 
Chapter   V.- 


actipn  of  simple  feelings,  complex 
feelings,  and  habits. — Mechanism 
of  Voluntary  Attention. —  Atten- 
tion acts  only  upon  the  muscles 
and  through  the  muscles. —  The 
feeling  of  effort. 

-Morbid  States  of  Attention.— Dis- 
traction.— Hypertrophy  of  Atten- 
tion.—  Atrophy  of  Attention. — 
Attention  in  idiots. 

-  Conclusion.  —  Attention  dependent 
on  Affective  States.  —  Physical 
Condition  of  Attention. 


Published    semi-monthly.—  $3  a  year.—  Single    numbers,  15  cents. 


OF    POPULAR    SCIENCE. 


No.  113. 


Double  number,  3O  cents. 


HYPNOTISM:    ITS    HISTORY  AND    PRESENT   DEVELOPMENT. 

By  FREDRIK  BJORNSTROM,  M.D.,  Head  Physician  of  the  Stockholm  Hospital, 
Professor  of  Psychiatry,  late  Royal  Swedish  Medical  Councillor.— Authorized 
Translation  from  the  Second  Swedish  Edition,  by  Baron  NILS  POSSE,  M.G., 
Director  of  the  Boston  School  of  Gymnastics. 


CONTENTS. 


I. — Historical  Retrospect. 
II. — Definition  of  Hypnotism.— Susceptibility  to 

Hypnotism. 

III. —  Means  or  Methods  of  Hypnotizing. 
IV. —  Stages  or  Degrees  of  Hypnotism. 
V. —  Unilateral  Hypnotism. 
VI. —  Physical  Effects  of  Hypnotism. 


VII.— Psychical  Effect*  of  Hypnotism. 
Vni.— Suggestion. 

IX.— Hypnotism  as  a  Remedial  Agent. 
X. — Hypnotism  as  a  Means  of  Education,  01 

as  a  Moral   Remedy. 
XI. —  Hypnotism  and  the  Law. 
XII.— Misuses  and  Dangers  of  Hypnotism. 
Bibliography  of  Hypnotism. 


No-  114-  Double  number,  3O  cent*. 

CHRISTIANITY  AND    AGNOSTICISM.-A  Controversy  .-Consisting 

of  papers  contributed  to  The  Nineteenth  Century  by  HENRY  WACE,  D.D.,  Prof. 
THOMAS  H.  HUXLEY,  THE  BISHOP  OF  PETERBOROUGH,  W.  H.  MALLOCK.  Mrs. 
HUMPHRY  WARD. 


I.  —  On    Agnosticism.  —  By   HENRY   WACK, 
D.D.,   Prebendarv  of   St.  Paul's  Cathe- 
dral :  Principal  of  King's  College. London. 
II. —  Agnosticism. —  By  Professor  THOMAS  H. 

HT7XLEY. 

III. —  Agnosticism. — A  Reply  to  Prof.  HUXLEY. 

By  HENBY  WACE,  D.D. 
IV. —  Agnosticism. —  By  W.   C.   MAGEE,   D.D., 

Bishop  of  Peterborough. 
V. —  Agnosticism.  —  A  Rejoinder.  —  By   Prof. 

THOMAS  H.  HCXLEY. 

VI. —  Christianity    and     Agnosticism. —  By 
HEXEY  WACE,  D.D. 


CONTENTS. 
VII.- 

vm.- 
rx.- 

X.- 

XI. 


-An  Explanation  to  Prof.  Huxley. — 

By  W.  C.  MAGEE,  D.D.,  Bishop  of  Peter- 
borough. 

-  The  Value  of  Witness  to  the  Mirac- 
ulous.—By.  Prof.  THOMAS  H.  HUXLEY. 

-Agnosticism    and  Christianity. —  By 
Prof.  THOMAS  H.  HUXLEY. 

-"Cowardly    Agnosticism." — A  Word 
with  Prof.  HuxLKY.-ByW.H.  MALLOCK. 

-The    New    Reformation.— By    Mrs. 
HUMPHRY  WARD. 


No.  115  and  No.  116.  Two  double  numbers,  3O  cents  each. 

DARWINISM:  AN  EXPOSITION  OF  THE  THEORY  OF  NATURAL 
SELECTION,  with  some  of  its  applications.— By  ALFRED  RCSSEL 
WALLACE,  LL.D.,  F.L.S.,  &e.— With  Portrait  of  the  Author,  Colored  Map,  and 
numerous  illustrations. 

CONTENTS. 


Chapter  I.— What  are  "Species,"  and  what  is 
meant  by  their  "Origin." 

Chapter     IE.— The  Struggle  for  Existence. 

Chapter  HI.— The  Variability  of  Species  in  a 
State  of  Nature. 

Chapter  IV. — Variation  of  Domesticated  Animals 
and  Cultivated  Plants. 

Chapter  V. — Natural  Selection  by  Variation  and 
Survival  of  the  Fittest. 

Chapter   VI.— Difficulties  and  Objections. 

Chapter  VII.— On  the  Infertility  of  Crosses  be- 
tween Distinct  Species,  and  the 
usual  Sterility  of  their  Hybrid 
Offspring. 


Chapter  VOL—  The  Origin  and  Uses  of  Color  in 
Animals. 

Chapter     IX. — Warning  Coloration  and  Mimicry. 

Chapter  X. —  Colors  and  Ornaments  character- 
istic of  Sex. 

Chapter  XL— The  Special  Colors  of  Plants.— 
Their  Origin  and  Purpose. 

Chapter  XII. — The  Geographical  Distribution  of 
Organisms. 

Chapter  Xm.—  The  Geological  Evidences  of  Evo- 
lution. 

Chapter  XTV. —  Fundamental  Problems  in  Rela- 
tion to  Variation  and  Heredity. 

Chapter    XV.— Darwinism  applied  to  Man. 


The  present  work  treats  the  problem  of  the  Origin  of  Species  on  the  same  general  lines  as  wer« 
adopted  by  Darwin ;  but  from  the  standpoint  reached  after  nearly  thirty  years  of  discussion,  with  an 
abundance  of  new  facts  and  the  advocacy  of  many  new  or  old  theories. 

While  not  attempting  to  deal,  even  in  outline,  with  the  vast  subject  of  evolution  in  genera 
endeavor  has  been  made  to  give  such  an  account  of  the  theory  of  Natural  Selection  as  may  enable  an 
intelligent  reader  to  obtain  a  clear  conception  of  Darwin's  work,  and  to  understand  something  01 
power  and  range  of  his  great  principle. —  Extract  from  the  Preface. 

THE   HUMBOLDT  PUBLISHING  CO.,  28  Lafayette  Place,  New  York. 


THE     HUMBOLDT     LIBRARY 


No.  117. 


[Double  number,  3O   cents. 


MODERN  SCIENCE  AND  MODERN  THOUGHT.-A  Clear  and 
Concise  View  of  the  Principal  Results  of  Modern  Science, 
and  of  the  Revolution  which  they  have  effected  in  Modern 
Thought.- By  S.  LAING. 

PART   I. 
MODERN     SCIENCE. 

CONTENTS. 


Chapter  I. —  Space. 

Primitive  Ideas— Natural  Standards— Dimensions  of  the 
Earth— Of  Sun  and  Solar  System— Distance  of  Fixed  Stars- 
Their  Order  and  Size— Nebulae  and  Other  Universes— The 
Telescope  and  the  Infinitely  Great— The  Microscope  and  the 
Infinitely  Small— Uniformity  of  Law— Law  of  Gravity— Acts 
through  all  Space— Double  Stars,  Comets,  and  Meteors— Has 
acted  through  all  time. 

Chapter  II.— Time. 

Evidence  of  Geology— Stratification— Denudation— Strata 
identified  by  Superposition— By  Fossils— Geological  Record 
shown  by  Upturned  Strata— General  Result— Palaeozoic  and 
Primary  Periods  —  Secondary —  Tertiary—  Time  required — 
Coal  Formation— Chalk— Elevations  and  Depressions  of  Land 
—Internal  Heat  of  the  Earth— Earthquakes  and  Volcanoes- 
Changes  of  Fauna  and  Flora— Astronomical  Time— Tides  and 
the  Moon — Sun's  Radiation— Earth's  Cooling— Geology  and 
Astronomy— Bearings  on  Modern  Thought. 

Chapter  III.— Matter. 

Ether  and  Light— Color  and  Heat— Matter  and  its  Elements 
— Molecules  and  Atoms — Spectroscope — Uniformity  of  Matter 
throughout  the  Universe— Force  and  Motion — Conservation 
of  Energy— Electricity.  Magnetism,  and  Chemical  Action — 
Dissipation  of  Heat— Birth  and  Death  of  Worlds. 

Chapter  IV.— Life. 

Essence  of  Life— Simplest  form,  Protoplasm— Monera  and 
Protista— Animal  and  Vegetable  Life— Spontaneous  Genera- 
tion—Development of  Species  from  Primitive  Cells— Super- 
natural Theory— Zoological  Provinces— Separate  Creations- 
Law  or  Miracle— Darwinian  Theory— Struggle  for  Life— Sur- 
vival of  the  Fittest— Development  and  Design— The  Hand- 
Proof  required  to  establish  Darwin's  Theory  as  a  Law— Species 
— Hybrid* — Man  subject  to  Law. 


Chapter  V. —  Antiquity  of  Man. 

Belief  in  Man's  Recent  Origin— Boucher  de  Perthes'  Dis 
coveries — Confirmed  by  Prestwich— Nature  of  Implements- 
Celts,  Scrapers,  and  Flakes — Human  Remains  in  Kiver  Drifts 
— Great  Antiquity— Implements  from  Drift  at  Bournemouth 
Bone-caves — Kent's  Cavern — Victoria.Gower.and  other  Caves 
—Caves  of  France  and  Belgium— Ages  of  Cave  Bear,  Mam- 
moth, and  Reindeer— Artistic  Race—  Drawings  of  Mammoth, 
ic.— Human  Types— Neanderthal,  Cro-Magnon,  Furfooz,  &c. 
—Attempts  to  hx  Dates — History — Bronze  Age— Neolithic- 
Danish  Kitchen-middens— Swiss  Lake-dwellings— Glacial  Pe- 
riod—Traces of  Ice— Causes  of  Glaciers— Croll's  Theory— Gulf 
Stream— Dates  of  Glacial  Period— Rise  and  Submergence  of 
Land— Tertiary  Man— Eocene  Period— Miocene— Evidence 
for  Pliocene  and  Miocene  Man — Conclusions  as  to  Antiquity. 


Chapter  VI.— Man's  Place  in  Nature. 

Origin  of  Man  from  an  Egg— Like  other  Mammals— Devel- 
opment of  the  Embryo  —Backbone— Eye  and  other  Organs  of 
Sense— Fish,  Reptile,  and  Mammalian  Stages— Comparison 
with  Apes  and  Monkeys — Germs  of  Human  Faculties  in  An- 
imals— The  Dog— Insects — Helplessness  of  Human  Infant- 
Instinct— Heredity  and  Evolution— The  Missing  Link— Races 
of  Men— Leading  Types  and  Varieties— Common  Origin  Dis- 
tant— Language — How  Formed— Grammar — Chinese,  Aryan. 
Semitic.  &c.— Conclusions  from  Language— Evolution  and 
Antiquity— Religions  of  Savage  Races— Ghosts  and  Spirits- 
Anthropomorphic  Deities — Traces  in  Neolithic  and  Palaeo- 
lithic Times — Development  by  Evolution— Primitive  Arts — 
Tools  and  Weapons — Fire — Flint  Implements — Progress  from 
Pala-olithic  to  Neolithic  Times— Domestic  Animals— Clothing 
— Ornaments — Conclusion,  Man  a  Product  of  Evolution. 


No.  118.  [Single  number,  15  cents. 

MODERN  SCIENCE  AND  MODERN  THOUGHT.-With  a  Sup- 
plemental  Chapter  on  Gladstone's  "Dawn  of  Creation"  and 
"Proem  to  Genesis,"  and  on  Drummond's  "Natural  Law  in 
the  Spiritual  World."- By  S.  LAING. 

PART   II. 
MODEEN     THOUGHT. 


Chapter  VII.— Modern  Thought. 


CONTENTS. 


Lines  from  Tennyson— The  Gospel  of  Modern  Thought — 
Change  exemplified  by  Carlyle.  Renan,  and  George  Eliot — 
Science  becoming  universal— Attitude  of  Orthodox  Writers- 
Origin  of  Evil — First  Cause  unknowable — New  Philosophies 
and  Religions — Herbert  Spencer  and  Agnosticism — Comte 
and  Positivism  —  Pessimism  —  Mormonism  —  Spiritualism  — 
Dreams  and  Visions — Somnambulism — Mesmerism — Great 
Modern  Thinker* — Carlyle — Hero-worship. 

Chapter  VUL—  Miracles. 

Origin  of  Belief  in  the  Supernatural— Thunder— Belief  in 
Miracles  formerly  Universal— St.  Paul's  Testimony— Now  In- 
credible—Christian Miracles— Apparent  Miracles— Real  Mir- 
ages—Absurd Miracles— Worthy  Miracles— The  Resurrection 
and  Ascension — Nature  of  Evidence  required — Inspiration — 
Prophecy— Direct  Evidence— St  Paul— The  Gospels— What 
is  Known  of  Them— The  Synoptic  Gospels— Resemblances 
*nd  Differences— Their  Origin— Papias— Gospel  of  St.  John- 
Evidence  rests  on  Matthew,  Mark,  and  Luke— What  each 
states — Compared  with  one  another  and  with  St.  John — 
Hopelessly  Contradictory— Miracle  of  the  Ascension— Silence 
of  Mark— Probable  Early  Date  of  Gospels— But  not  in  their 
Present  Form. 


Chapter  LX.— Christianity  Without  Miracles. 

Practical  and  Theoretical  Christianity  — Example  and 
Teaching  of  Christ— Christian  Dogma— Moral  Objections — In- 
consistent with  Facts — Must  be  accepted  as  Parables— Kail 
and  Redemption — Old  Creeds  must  be  Transformed  or  Die- 
Mohammedanism— Decay  of  Faith — Balance  of  Advantages  — 
Religious  Wars  and  Persecutions — Intolerance — Sacrifice — 
Prayer— Absence  of  Theology  in  Synoptic  Gospels— Opposite 
Pole  to  Christianity— Courage  and  Self-reliance— Belief  in 
God  and  a  Future  Life— Based  Mainly  on  Christianity— Sci- 
ence gives  no  Answer— Nor  Metaphysics— So-called  Institu- 
tions—Development of  Idea  of  God— Best  Proof  afforded  by- 
Christianity— Evolution  is  Transforming  it — Reconciliation 
of  Religion  and  Science. 

Chapter  X. —  Practical  Life. 

Conscience  —  Right  is  Right  —  Self-rev«rence  —  Courage- 
Respectability— Influence  of  Press— Respect  for  Women- 
Self-respect  of  Nations — Democracy  and  Imperialism— Self- 
knowledge — Conceit — Luck  —  Speculation— Money-making— 
Practical  Aims  of  Life— Self-control— Conflict  of  Reason  and 
Instinct— Temper— Manners— Good  Habits  in  Youth— Suc- 
cess in  Practical  Life — Education — Stoicism — Conclusion. 


SUPPLEMENTAL  CHAPTER. —  Gladstone's  "Dawn  of  Creation"  and  "Proem  to  Genesis." — Drum- 
mond's "Natural  Law  in  the  Spiritual  World." 

Published    semi-monthly.—  $3  a  year.—  Single    numbers,  15  cents. 


OF    POPULAR    SCIENCE. 


No.  119. 

THE    ELECTRIC    LIGHT.- How  the  Electric  Current  is  Produced. 
How  the  Electric  Current  is  made  to  yield  the  Electric  Light. 

By  GERALD    MOLLOY,   D.D.,   D.Sc.,   Fellow  of   the   Royal    University.— With 
numerous    illustrations. 

CONTENTS. 


I.— How  the  Electric  Current  is  Produced. 

First  Discovery  of  Induced  Currents— Faraday'*  Exper- 
iment*  described  and  repeated — First  machines  founded  on 
Faraday's  discovery  —  Pixii.  Sexton,  Clarke  — New  form  of 
Armature  invented  by  Siemens-'Machine*  of  the  Alliance 
Company  in  France  and  of  Holme*  in  England  —  Wilde'* 
machine — A  new  principle  discovered — Land'*  machine— 
The  machine*  of  Gramme  ami  Siemens-Ideal  skeleton  of 
Gramme's  machine— The  principle  of  it*  action  explained— 
I>etailsof  construction— The  Volta  Prize  awarded  to  Gramme 
for  hi*  invention— The  machine  of  Siemens,  how  it  differs 
from  that  of  Gramme— Most  other  machine*  constructi-ii  on 
one  or  other  of  these  two  type*— The  dynamo  doe*  not  create 
energy,  but  convert*  mechanical  energy  into  electrical  energy. 


II.—  How  the  Electric  Current  is  made  to  yield 

the  Electric  Light. 

Simplest  form  of  Electric  Light-Principle  of  the  Electric 
Light— Sir  Humphry  Davy's  experiment-Two  type*  of  Elec- 
tric Light-The  Arc  Light-Duboscq's  Lamp- New  form*  of 
Arc ;Lamp-l  he  JablochkuB  Candle-The  lncande*cent  Light 
-Platinum  Spiral-Why  Carbon  i*  preferred  to  Platinum  - 
A  perfect  vacuum— Element*  of  Incandescent  Lamp— Prep- 
aration of  the  filament— Edison '*  proce**— Swan '•  proceu- 
Carbonization  of  the  filament— Exhaustion  of  the  glaM  globe 
-Light  without  heat— The  Arc  Light  and  the  Incandescent 
Light  compared— Comparison  with  other  kind*  of  light  -How 
far  the  Electric  Light  is  now  available  for  u*e—  Transforma- 
tions of  Energy  illustrated  by  the  Electric  Light 


TO   WHICH    IS    ADDED 


THE    STORING    OF   ELECTRICAL   ENERGY.-The    Recent 
Progress    and    Development    of   the    Storage    Battery.— By  the 

same  author. —  With  numerous    illustrations. 


CONTENTS. 


A  "  marvelous  box  of  electricity"— What  i*  meant  by  the 
storing  of  energy— Example*  of  energy  stored  up — A  sus- 
pended weight— A  watchspring  wound  up — A  stretched  cross- 
how— A  flywheel— Energy  stored  up  in  cloud*  and  rivers- 
Energy  stored  up  in  a  coal-mine — Energy  stored  up  in  sep- 
arated gases — Storing  of  electrical  energy  not  a  new  idea — 
Energy  stored  up  in  a  Leyden  jar— In  a  thunder-cloud— In  a 
voltaic  battery— Principle  of  the  storage  battery— Experiment 


ment  of  the  principle— Ritter'*  secondary  pile— Grove'*  gas- 
battery—  Experiment*  of  Gaston  Plantr— The  Plante  second- 
ary cell— Faure's  improvement— What  a  storage  battery  c«n 
do — Practical  illustrations— Convenience  of  the  storage  bat- 
tery for  the  production  of  the  electric  light— The  Morage  bat- 
tery a*  a  motive  power— Application  of  the  storage  battery  t<> 
tram-cars  and  private  carriages— The  storage  battery  on  its 
trial 


showing  production  of  secondary  currents-Gradual  develop- 

RECENT    PROGRESS   AND    DEVELOPMENT    OF   THE    STORAGE    BATTERY. 
Unexpected  difficulties— Modifications  of  the  Faure  cell- 
Internal  resistance  diminished — New  mode  of  preparing  the 
plates— An  alloy  substituted  for  pure  lead— The  paste  of  lead 
of  main 


oxide—  Improved  method 


ntaining  insulation  of  the 


plate*— Newest  form  of  cell— Buckling  of  the  plate*— The 
g  the  I  available  energy  of  a  cell— Kate  at  which  the  energy  can  be 
f  lead  I  drawn  off—  Application  to  tram-car*  and  to  electric  lighting. 


No.  120. 

THE    MODERN    THEORY   OF   HEAT,  as   Illustrated   by  the   Phe- 
nomena  of  the    Latent    Heat   of   Liquids    and   of  Vapors.— By 

GERALD    MOLLOY,   D.D.,  D.Sc.,  Fellow  of   the    Royal    University. —  With  nu- 
merous   illustrations. 

CONTENTS. 

I.— The  Latent  Heat  of  Liquids. 
Modern  theory  of  heat— Heat  a  form  of  Energy — Familiar 
illustrations  —  Count  Kumford's  experiment  —  Argument 
founded  on  the  experiment— Heat  produced  by  expenditure 
of  Electrical  Energy— Latent  Heat— Black'*  experiments- 
Heat  disappears  when  ice  i*  melted— Explanation  of  this  fact 
according  to  the  old  theory— Explanation  offered  by  the  mod- 
ern theory— Latent  Heat  varies  for  different  liquids— Freezing 
mixtures— Heat  developed  when  a  liquid  become*  •olid- 
Water  heated  in  freezing— Experiment  with  solution  of  sul- 
phate of  soda — Latent  Heat  in  the  economy  of  Nature. 


II.— The  Latent  Heat  of  Vapors. 

Heat  expended  when  water  is  boiled— This  fact  considered 
in  the  light  of  the  modern  theory— Method  of  measuring  the 
quantity  of  beat  so  expended— Heat  developed  when  steam  i* 
condensed— Experimental  illustration— Heating  of  buildings 
by  steam — Heat  expended  in  evaporation— Various  illustra- 
tions— Cold  produced  by  evaporation  of  ether— Water  frozen 
by  evaporation— Leslie's  experiment— Carre's  apparatus— Pro- 
duction of  solid  carbonic  acid— Freezing  of  mercury— Latent 
Heat  of  cloud* — Effect  in  the  economy  of  Nature — Summary. 


TO    WHICH    IS    ADDED 


THE    SUN    AS    A    STOREHOUSE    OF    ENERGY.- Immensity  of 
the  Sun's   Energy.— Source  of  the  Sun's   Energy.— By  the  same 

author. —  With   numerous    illustrations. 


CONTENTS. 


I.— Immensity  of  the  Sun's  Energy. 

Nearly  all  the  energy  available  to  man  is  derived  from  the 
sun  —Water-power— Wind-power  —  Steam-power—  Muscular 
power— Electrical  power — Tidal  power  an  exception— Energy' 
of  the  tides  derived  from  rotation  of  the  earth  on  its  axis- 
Only  a  small  fraction  of  the  energy  which  the  earth  derives 
from  the  sun  i*  used  by  man— And  the  energy  which  the 
earth  receives  is  only  a  small  fraction  of  what  the  sun  sends 
forth— Measurement  of  energy  sent  out  by  the  sun— Exper- 
iments of  Pouillet  and  Hersclifl  —  Apparatus  employed  — 
Method  of  adjustment— Observations  made— Corrections- 
Practical  estimate  of  the  energy  sent  out  by  the  sun— What 
a  wonderful  storehouse  of  energy  the  sun  must  be — How  is 
this  storehouse  supplied ? 


II.— Source  of  the  Sun's  Energy. 

The  sun  is  not  a  great  fire— Such  a  fire  would  be  choked  by 
the  products  of  combustion— And  beside*  it  would  be  burned 
out  in  course  of  time— Difference  between  incandescence  and 
combustion— Practical  illustrations— How  the  sun  is  main- 
tained in  a  state  of  incandescence— Theory  of  Sir  William 
Thomson— Meteors  or  Falling  Stars- Heat  developed  when 
such  bodies  fall  into  the  sun-Illustration  from  a  bullet  •Hik- 
ing a  target— Thi*  theory  now  abandoned— Theory  of  Helm- 
holtz— Heat  of  the  sun  produced  bv  compression  or  his  mass- 
Heat  lost  by  radiation  is  restored  by  further  compression  — 
This  theory  probable  and  sufficient— Bearing  of  the  Nebular 
Hypothesis— The  past  energy  of  the  sun— Summary- 


THE    HUMBOLDT  PUBLISHING   CO.,  28  Lafayette  Place.  New  York. 


THE     HUMBOLDT     LIBRARY 


No.  121. 

UTILITARIANISM.— By  JOHN   STUART  MILL,  auth«r  of  "A  System  of  Logic," 
''Principles  of  Political  Economy,"  "On  Liberty,"  &c. 


Chapter      I. —  General  Remarks. 
Chapter    II. —  "What  Utilitarianism  is. 
Chapter  III.— Of  the  Ultimate  Sanction  of  the 
Principle  of  Utility. 


CONTENTS. 

Chapter  IV.—  Of  what  sort  of  Proof  the  Principle 
of  Utility  is  susceptible. 

Chapter  V. —  Of  the  Connection  between  Justice 
and  Utility. 


No.  122  and  No.  123. 


[No.  122  is  a  double  number,  3O  cents. 


UPON   THE    ORIGIN    OF  ALPINE    AND    ITALIAN    LAKES;    AND 

UPON  GLACIAL  EROSION.—  By  Sir  A.  C.  RAMSAY,  F.R.S.,  President 
of  the  Geological  Society.  —  JOHN  BALL,  M.R.I.  A.,  F.L.S.,&c.  —  Sir  RODERICK  I. 
MURCHISON,  F.R.S.,  D.C.L.,  President  of  the  Royal  Geographical  Society.  — 
Prof.  B.  STUDER,  of  Berne.—  Prof.  A.  FAVRE,  of  Geneva.—  EDWARD  WHYMPER.  — 
With  an  Introduction  and  Notes  upon  the  Origin  and  History  of  the  Great  Lakes 
of  North  America,  by  Prof.  J.  W.  SPENCER,  State  Geologist  of  Georgia. 


CONTENTS. 


Introduction,  with  Notes  upon  the  Origin  and 
History  of  the  Great  Lakes  of  North  America. — 
By  J.  W.  SPENCER,  Ph.D..  F.G.S.,  State  Geologist 
of  Georgia 

I. —  On  the  Glacial  Origin  of  Certain  Lakes  in 
Switzerland,  the  Black  Forest,  Great  Britain, 
Sweden.  North  America,  and  Elsewhere. —  By  Sir 
A.  C.  RAMSAY,  F.R.S.,  President  of  the  Geological 
Society. 

II. —  On  the  Formation  of  Alpine  Valleys  and 
Alpine  Lakes.  —  By  JOHN  BALL,  M.  R.  I.  A., 
F.L.S.,  &c. 

III. —  Glaciers  of  the  Himalayan  Mountains  and 
New  Zealand  compared  with  those  of  Europe. — 
On  the  Powers  of  Glaciers  in  Modifying  the  Sur- 


face of  the  Earth,  and  in  the  agency  of  Floating 
Icebergs.  —  By  Sir  RODERICK  I.  MURCHISON, 
K.C.B..  D.C.L.,  F.R.S.,  &c. 

IV.— On  the  Origin  of  the  Swiss  Lakes.— By 
Prof.  B.  STUDER,  of  Berne. 

V. —  On  the  Origin  of  the  Alpine  Lakes  and 
Valleys.  A  letter  addressed  to  Sir  RODERICK  I. 
MURCHISON.  K.C.B.,  D.C.L..  &c.,  by  M.  ALPHONSE 
FAVRE,  Professor  of  Geology  in  the  Academy  of 
Geneva,  author  of  the  Geological  Map  of  Savoy. 

VI. — The  Ancient  Glaciers  of  Aosta. —  By  ED- 
WARD WHYMPER. 

VII. —  Glacial  Erosion  in  Norway  and  in  High 
Latitudes.— By  Professor  J.  W.  SPENCER,  Ph.D., 
F.G.S.,  State  Geologist  of  Georgia. 


No.  124. 

THE    QUINTESSENCE    OF   SOCIALISM.-By  Dr.  A. 

lated  from  the  eighth  German  edition  under  the  supervision  of  BERNARD  BOSAN- 
QUET.  M.A.,  formerly  Fellow  of  University  College,  Oxford. 


CONTENTS. 


Chapter  I.— FIKST  OUTLINES   OF  THE   FUNDA- 
MENTAL IDEA  OF  SOCIALISM. 

Chapter  n.— THE  MEANS  OF  AGITATION. 
The  Socialistic  criticism  of  capital. —  Profit  as 
: ' appropriation  of  surplus  value." — Property  as 
theft. —  False  interpretations  of  these  allegations 
refuted. —  Ultimate  buying-out  of  the  modern 
plutocrats. 

Chapter  in.  —  PROPOSED  TRANSFORMATION  OF 
THE  SEVERAL  FUNDAMENTAL  INSTITUTIONS  OF 
MODERN  NATIONAL  ECONOMY. 

Determination  of  demand. — Freedom  of  demand. 
Organization  of  labor  and  capital  into  a  system  of 
collective  production. —  False  interpretations  re- 
futed.—  The  doctrine  of  value  as  depending  on 
sheer  labor-cost  useless  for  a  practical  organiza- 
tion of  labor  and  capital. 

Chapter  IV.  —  TRANSFORMATION   OF  INSTITU- 
TIONS (continued). 

Abolition  of  all  loan-capital,  of  credit,  of  lease, 
of  hire,  and  of  the  exchange. 

Chapter  V.  —  TRANSFORMATION   OF  INSTITU- 
TIONS (continued). 
Abolition  of  trade  in  "commodities."  and  of  the 


market  for  them,  and  of  the  system  of  advertise- 
ment and  of  display  of  wares. 

Chapter  VI.  —  TRANSFORMATION   OF  INSTITU- 
TIONS (continued.) 

Abolition  of  metallic  money  as  the  medium  of 
exchange,  arid  its  replacement  as  '-standard  of 
value"  by  units  of  •' social  labor-time"  (''labor- 
money").  The  value-estimate  of  the  Socialistic 
State  compared  with  the  present  market-price. 

Chapter  VII. —  TRANSFORMATION  OF  INSTITU- 
TIONS (continued.) 

The  Socialistic  determination  of  value  in  ex- 
change, and  freedom  of  labor  in  the  Socialistic 
State. 

Chapter  VHI. —  TRANSFORMATION  OF  INSTITU- 
TIONS (continued). 

Income,  and  the  use  of  income  in  the  formation 
of  property,  and  in  consumption. —  Private  prop- 
erty and  the  law  affecting  it. —  Family  life  and 
marriage. —  Savings-banks  and  insurance  system. 
Expenditure  on  charital.le.humanitarian.religious, 
and  other  ideal  purposes. 

Chapter  IX. —  CONCLUSION. 
Summary  of  criticisms. 


Published    semi-monthly.—  $3  a  year. —  Single    numbers.  15  cents. 


OF    POPULAR    SCIENCE. 


No.  125. 

DARWINISM     AND     POLITICS.- By  DAVID  G.  RITCHIE,  M.A.,  Fellow  and 
Tutor  of  Jesus  College,  Oxford. 

CONTENTS. 


"The  Struggle  for  Existence  "in  Malthas  and 
Darwin. —  How  the  idea  is  applied  to  politics. —  Is 
the  struggle  "beneficent"? 

The  Evolution  Theory  as  applied  to  Human  So- 
ciety by  Darwin,  Strauss,  Spencer,  Maine,  Clodd. 

Ambiguity  of  the  phrase  "Survival  of  the  Fit- 
test."—  Complexity  of  Social  Evolution. 

Does  the  Doctrine  of  Heredity  support  Aristoc- 
racv? 


Huxley  and  Strauss.— Ambiguity  of  "Nature."— 
Conscious  "Variations." 

Why  fix  ideas  in  institutions?— Custom:  iu  use 
and  abuse. —  Institutions  and  "the  social  factor" 
generally  are  neglected  in  the  popular  acceptation 
of  the  doctrine  of  Heredity.— Mr.  Gallon's  views 
considered. —  Darwin's  own  opinion. 

Are  the  Biological  Formulae  adequate  to  express 
Social  Evolution? 


Applications— (1)  The  Labor  Question.— (2)  The 
Position  of  Women.— (3)  The  Population  Question. 


Does  the  Evolution  Theory  justify  Laissezfaire  ? 
Struggle  between  ideas  for  survival. —  Conscious- 
ness as  a  factor  in  Evolution.— Testimony  of  Prof. 

TO   WHICH    IS    ADDED 

ADMINISTRATIVE    NIHILISM.- By  Prof.  THOMAS  HENRY  HUXLEY,  F.R.S. 

No.  126  and  No.  127.  [Two  double  numbers,  3O  cents  each. 

PHYSIOGNOMY  AND  EXPRESSION.- By  PAOLO  MANTEGAZZA,  Senator; 
Director  of  the  National  Museum  of  Anthropology,  Florence ;  President  of  the 
Italian  Society  of  Anthropology. 

CONTENTS. 

PART  I.— THE  HUMAN  COUNTENANCE. 


Chapter  I.— Historical  Sketch  of  the  Science 
of  Physiognomy  and  of  Human 
Expression. 

Chapter    II. —  The  Human  Face. 

Chapter  III. —  The  Features  of  the  Human  Face. 


Chapter  IV.— The  Hair  and  the  Beard.— Moles. 
Wrinkles. 

Chapter    V.— Comparative   Morphology   of    the 
Human  Face. 


PART  II. —  THE  EXPRESSION  OF  EMOTIONS. 


Chapter     VI. —  The  Alphabet  of  Expression. 

Chapter   VII.— The  Darwinian  Laws  of  Expression 

Chapter  VIII. —  Classification  of  Expressions. — 
General  View  of  all  Phenomena 
of  Expression. 

Chapter     IX. —  The  Expression  of  Pleasure. 

Chapter       X.— The  Expression  of  Pain. 

Chapter  XI. —  Expression  of  Love  and  of  Benev- 
olence. 

Chapter  XII.— Expression  of  Devotion,  of  Ven- 
eration, and  of  Religious  Feeling. 

Chapter  XIII.—  Expression  of  Hatred,  of  Cruelty, 

and  of  Passion. 

Chapter  XIV.— The  Expression  of  Pride,  Vanity, 
Haughtiness,  Modesty,  and  Hu- 
miliation. 

Chapter  XV.— Expression  of  Personal  Feelings, 
Fear,  Distrust. — Description  of 
Timidity,  according  to  the  old 
Physiognomists. 


Chapter     XVI.— The  Expression  of  Thought. 

Chapter  XVII.— General  Expressions. —  Repose 
and  Action,  Disquietude,  Im- 
patience, Expectation,  Desire. 

Chapter  XVTIL—  Racial  and  Professional  Ex- 
pression. 

Chapter  XIX. — The  Moderaters  and  Disturbers 
of  Expression. 

Chapter  XX.— Criteria  for  the  Determination 
of  the  Strength  of  an  Emotion 
by  the  degree  of  the  Expression 

Chapter  XXI. — The  Five  Verdicts  on  the  Human 
Face. 

Chapter  XXII.— Criteria  for  Judging  the  Moral 
Worth  of  a  Physiognomy. 

Chapter  XXIII.—  Criteria  for  Judging  the  Intel- 
lectual Value  of  a  Face. 

Chapter  XXIV.— The  Physiognomy  of  Gestures 

and  the  Expression  of  Clothes. 

APPENDIX.—  The  Eyes,  Hair,  and  Beard,  in  the 

Italian  Races. 


This  work,  by  Professor  Mantegazza,  a  brilliant  and  versatile  author,  and  the  leading  Italian  anthro- 
pologist, has  already  been  translated  into  several  European  languages.  Professor  Mantegazza,  whose 
name  is  well  known  to  readers  of  Darwin,  has  cooperated  in  the  present  English  edition  of  his  work  by 
writing  a  new  chapter  specially  for  it. 

THE  HUMBOLDT  PUBLISHING  CO.,  28  Lafayette  Place,  New  York. 


THE     HUMBOLDT     LIBRARY 


No.  128  and  No.  129. 


[Two  double  mimbers,  3O  cents  each. 


THE      INDUSTRIAL     REVOLUTION      OF     THE      EIGHTEENTH 

CENTURY  IN  ENGLAND.— Popular  Addresses,  Notes,  and  other  Frag- 
ments.—  By  the  late  ARNOLD  TOYNBEE,  Tutor  of  Balliol  College,  Oxford. — 
Together  with  a  short  memoir  by  B.  JOWETT,  Master  of  Balliol  College,  Oxford. 


I. 


CONTENTS. 


RlCARDO    AND    THE    OLD    POLITICAL    ECONOMY. 


The  change  that  has  come  over  Political  Econ- 
omy.—  Ricardo  responsible  for  the  form  of  that 
.Science.— The  causes  of  his  great  influence. — The 
economic  assumptions  of  his  treatise. —  Ricardo 
ignorant  of  the  nature  of  his  own  method. — 
Malthus's  protest. — Limitations  of  Ricardo's  doc- 
trine recognized  by  Mill  and  Senior. — Observation 
discouraged  by  the  Deductive  Method. — The  effect 
of  the  Labor  Movement  on  Economics. — Modifica- 
tions of  the  Science  by  recent  writers. —  The  new 
method  of  economic  investigation. 


II. 

The  philosophic  assumptions  of  Ricardo. — They 
are  derived  from  Adam  Smith. —  The  worship  of 
individual  liberty. —  It  involves  freedom  of  com- 
petition and  removal  of  industrial  restrictions. — 
The  flaw  in  this  theory. —  It  is  confirmed  by  the 
doctrine  of  the  identity  of  individual  and  social 
interests. —  Criticism  of  this  doctrine. —  The  idea 
of  invariable  law. — True  nature  of  economic  laws. 
Laws  and  Precepts. —  The  great  charge  brought 
against  Political  Economy. —  Its  truth  and  its 
falsehood. 


THE  INDUSTRIAL  REVOLUTION. 


I. —  Introductory. 

II. —  England  in  1760.- 

in.— England  in  1760.- 

IV.—  England  in  1760.- 

V.— England  in  1760.- 

Yeomanry. 

VI.— England  in  1760.— The  Condition  of  the 
Wage-earners. 


-Population. 
-Agriculture.       [Trade. 
-Manufactures  and 
-The  Decay  of  the 


VII.—  The  Mercantile  System  and  Adam  Smith. 
VIII.— The  Chief  Features  of  the  Revolution. 
IX.— The  Growth  of  Pauperism. 
X. —  Malthus  and  the  Law  of  Population. 
XI.— The  Wage-fund  Theory. 
XII. —  Ricardo  and  the  Growth  of  Rent. 
XIII. —  Two  Theories  of  Economic  Progress. 
XIV.—  The  Future  of  the  Working  Classes. 


POPULAR  ADDRESSES. 

1.  Wages  and  Natural  Law. 

2.  Industry  and  Democracy. 

3.  Are  Radicals  Socialists? 


The  Education  of  Co-operators. 

The  Ideal  Relation  of  Church  and  State. 

Notes  and  Jottings. 


No.  130  and  No.  131.  [Two  double  numbers,  3O  cents  each. 

THE      ORIGIN      OF      THE      ARYANS.-An    Account    of    the    Prehistoric 

Ethnology  and  Civilization  of  Europe.— By  ISAAC  TAYLOR,  M.A.,  Litt.  D.,  Hon. 

LL.D.—  Illustrated. 

CONTENTS. 


Chapter  I. — The  Aryan  Controversy. 

Chapter  II. — The  Prehistoric  Races  of  Europe. 

1.  The  Neolithic  Age.  4.  The  Celts. 

2.  The  Methods  of  An-        5.  The  Iberians. 

thropologv.  6.  The  Scandinavians. 

3.  The  Races  of  Britain.      7.  The  Ligurians. 


Chapter  III.— The  Neolithic  Culture. 

1.  The  Continuity  of  De-      7.  Dress. 

velopment. 

2.  Metals. 

3.  Weapons. 

4.  Cattle. 

5.  Husbandry. 

6.  Food. 


Habitations. 
9.  The  Boat. 

10.  The  Ox- Wagon. 

11.  Trades. 

12.  Social  Life. 

13.  Relative  Progress. 


Chapter  IV.— The  Aryan  Race. 

1.  The  Permanence  of  Race. 

2.  The  Mutability  of  Language. 

3.  The  Finnic  Hypothesis. 

4.  The  Basques. 

5.  The  Northern  Races. 

Chapter  V. —  The  Evolution  of  Aryan  Speech. 

1.  The  Aryan  Languages. 

2.  Dialect  and  Language. 

3.  The  Lost  Aryan  Languages. 

4.  The  Wave-Theory. 

5.  Language  and  Race. 

6.  The  Genesis  of  Aryan  Speech. 

Chapter  VI. —  The  Aryan  Mythology. 


The  last  ten  years  have  seen  a  revolution  in  the  opinion  of  scholars  as  to  the  region  in  which 
the  Aryan  race  originated,  and  theories  which  not  long  ago  were  universally  accepted  as  the  well- 
established  conclusions  of  science  now  hardly  find  a  defender.  The  theory  of  migration  from  Asia 
has  been  displaced  by  a  new  theory  of  origin  in  Northern  Europe.  In  Germany  several  works  have 
been  devoted  to  the  subject;  but  this  is  the  first  English  work  which  has  yet  appeared  embodying  the 
results  recently  arrived  at  by  philologists,  archaeologists,  and  anthropologists.  This  volume  affords  a 
fresh  and  highly  interesting  account  of  the  present  state  of  speculation  on  a  highly  interesting  subject. 


Published    semi-monthly.—  $3  a  year. —  Single    numbers,  15  cents. 


OF    POPULAR    SCIENCE. 


No.  132  and  No.  133. 


[Two  double  numbers,  30  cents  ea«h. 


THE     EVOLUTION     OF    SEX.- By  Prof.  PATRICK  GEDDES  and  J.  ARTHUR 
THOMSON.— With   104  illustrations. 

CONTENTS. 

BOOK  I. —  MALE  AND  FEMALE. 


Chapter      I. — The  Sexes  and  Sexual   Selection. 

Chapter    II.—  The  Sexes,  and  Criticism  of  Sexual 
Selection. 


Chapter  III.—  The  Determination  of  Sex  (Hf. 
potheses  and  Observations. 

Chapter  IV.— The  Determination  of  Sex  (Con- 
structive Treatment). 


BOOK  II.— ANALYSIS  OF  SEX.— ORGANS,  TISSUES,  CELLS. 

Chapter  VIII.—  The  Egg-cell  or  Ovum. 
Chapter     IX.— The  Male-cell  or  Sperm. 
Chapter      X.— Theory  of  Sex:   Its  Nature  and 
Origin. 


Chapter     V. —  Sexual  Organs  and  Tissues. 
Chapter   VI. —  Hermaphroditism. 
Chapter  VII.— The    Sex-elements    (General    and 
Historical. 


Chapter     XI. —  Sexual  Reproduction. 
Chapter    XII.— Theory  of  Fertilization. 
Chapter  XIII. —  Degenerate  Sexual  Reproduction, 
or  Parthenogenesis. 


BOOK  III. —  PROCESSES  OF  REPRODUCTION. 

Chapter  XIV. —  Asexual  Reproduction. 
Chapter    XV. —  Alternation  of  Generations. 


BOOK  IV.— THEORY  OP  REPRODUCTION. 


Chapter     XVI. —  Growth  and  Reproduction. 

Chapter  XVII. —  Theory  of  Reproduction  (con- 
tinued). 

Chapter  XVIII.—  Special  Physiology  of  Sex  and 
Reproduction. 


Chapter     XIX. —  Psychological   and   Ethical  As- 
pects. 
Chapter       XX.— Laws  of  Multiplication. 

Chapter     XXI.— The    Reproductive    Factor    in 
Evolution. 


A  work  which,  for  range  and  grace,  mastery  of  material,  originality,  and  incisiveness  of  style  and 
treatment,  is  not  readily  to  be  matched  in  the  "long  list  of  books  designed  more  or  less  to  popularize 
science. —  Scottish  Leader. 

A  model  of  scientific  exposition. —  Scotsman. 

No.  134.  [Double  number,  3O  cents. 

THE  LAW  OF  PRIVATE  RIGHT.-By  GEORGE  H.  SMITH,  author  of 
"Elements  of  Right,  and  of  the  Law,"  and  of  Essays  on  "The  Certainty  of  the 
Law,  and  the  Uncertainty  of  Judicial  Decisions,"  "The  True  Method  of  Legal 
Education,"  &e.,  &c. 

CONTENTS. 
INTRODUCTION. 


I.—  Explanation  of  the  Design  and  Scope  of  the 

Work. 

II.— Of  the  Definition  of  the  Law. 
III. —  Of  the  Division  of  the  Law. 


PART  I. 

Of  the  Nature  of   the  Law  of  Private 
Right. 

Chapter  I. 
Analytical  Outline  of  the  Law  of  Private  Right. 

Chapter  II. 

Of  the  Nature  of  Right,  and  of  the  Law  of  Private 
Right,  and  their  Relation  to  Each  Other. 


PART  II. 

Of  the  Law  of  Private  Right  as  Histor- 
ically Developed. 

Chapter  I. 
Of  the  Historical   Development  of  Jurisdiction. 


Chapter  II. 

Historical  Development  of  the  Law  (as  opposed 
to  Equity). 

Chapter  HI. 
Historical  Development  of  Equity. 


PART  III. 

Of  the  Nature  and  of  the  Method  and 
Principles  of  Right. 

Chapter  I. 
Definition  of  Rights. 

Chapter  II. 

The  Same  Subject  Continued,  and  herein,  of  the 
Standard  of  Right  and  Wrong. 

Chapter  HI. 
Of  the  Method  and  First  Principles  of  Right. 

Chapter  IV. 

Of  the  Limit  to  the  Liberty  of  the  Individual. 
Imposed  by  the  Rights  of  the  State. 

Chapter  V. 

Natural   Rights   Demonstrated   from  the  Above 
Principles. 


THE   HUMBOLDT   PUBLISHING   CO.,  28  Lafayette  Place,  New  York. 


THE     HUMBOLDT     LIBRARY 


Nos.  135,  136,  137,  138. 


[Four  double  numbers,  3O  cents  each. 


CAPITAL:    A    Critical    Analysis    of    Capitalist     Production.— By 

KARL  MAHX. —  Translated  from  the  third  German  edition  by  SAMUEL  MOORE 
and  EDWARD  AVELINQ,  and  edited  by  FREDERICK  ENGELS.— The  only  American 
Edition. —  Carefully  Revised. 

PART  I. 

COMMODITIES    AND    MONEY. 


Chapter    I. —  Commodities. 

(a)  Elementary  or  Accidental  Form  of  Value. 

(b)  Total  or  Expanded  Form  of  Value. 

(c)  The  General  Form  of  Value. 

(d)  The  Money  Form. 
Chapter    II.—  Exchange. 


Chapter  III.— Money,  or  the  Circulation  of  Com- 
modities. 

1.  The  Measure  of  Values. 

2.  The  Medium  of  Circulation. 

3.  Money:  hoarding,  means  of  payment,  uni- 

versal money. 


PART  II. 

THE    TRANSFORMATION    OF    MONEY    INTO     CAPITAL. 


Chapter  IV.— The  General  Formula  for  Capital. 
Chapter  V. —  Contradictions  in  the  General  Form- 
ula of  Capital. 


Chapter  VI.— The  Buying  and  Selling  of  Labor- 
power. 


PART  III. 

THE  PRODUCTION  OF  ABSOLUTE  SURPLUS  VALUE. 


Chapter  VII. — The  Labor-process  and  the  Process 

of  Producing  Surplus  Value. 
Chapter  Vin. —  Constant   Capital   and  Variable 

Capital. 


Chapter  IX.— The  Rate  of  Surplus  Value. 

Chapter     X.— The  Working  Day. 

Chapter  XI. — Bate  and  Mass  of  Surplus  Value. 


PART  IV. 

THE     PRODUCTION    OF    RELATIVE     SURPLUS    VALUE. 


Chapter    XII. —  The  Concept  of  Relative  Surplus 

Value. 
Chapter  XIII. —  Co-operation. 


Chapter  XIV. —  Division  of  Labor  and  Manufac- 
ture. 
Chapter     XV. —  Machinery  and  Modern  Industry. 


PART  V. 

THE    PRODUCTION    OF    ABSOLUTE     AND     OF    RELATIVE     SURPLUS    VALUE. 

Chapter  XVIII. —  Various  Formula  for  the  Rate 
of  Surplus  Value. 


Chapter    XVI. —  Absolute  and  Relative  Surplus 

Value. 
Chapter  XVII. — Changes  of  Magnitude  in  the  price 

of  Labor-power  and  in  Surplus  Value. 


PART  VI. 

WAGES. 


Chapter  XIX.— The  Transformation  of  the  Value 
(and  respectively  the  Price)  of  Labor- 
power  into  Wages. 


Chapter  XX. —  Time-wages. 
Chapter  XXI. —  Piece- wages. 
Chapter  XXII. — National  Differences  of 


PART  VII. 

THE    ACCUMULATION    OF    CAPITAL. 


Chapter  XXIII. —  Simple  Reproduction. 
Chapter  XXTV. —  Conversion   of   Surplus   Value 
into  Capital. 


Chapter    XXV.— The  General  Law  of  Capitalist 
Accumulation. 


PART  VIII. 

THE     SO-CALLED     PRIMITIVE    ACCUMULATION. 


Chapter  XXVI.—  The  Secret  of  Primitive  Accu- 
mulation. 

Chapter  XXVII.—  Expropriation  of  the  Agricul- 
tural Population  from  the  Land. 

Chapter  XXVIII. —  Bloody  Legislation  against  the 
Expropriated  from  the  End  of  the  15th 
Century.  Forcing  down  of  Wages  by  Acts 
of  Parliament. 

Chapter  XXIX.— Genesis  of  the  Capitalist  Farmer. 


Chapter  XXX.— Reaction  of  the  Agricultural 
Revolution  on  Industry.  Creation  of  the 
Home  Market  for  Industrial  Capital. 

Chapter  XXXI.— Genesis  of  the  Industrial  Cap- 
italist. 

Chapter  XXX1L—  Historical  Tendency  of  Cap- 
italistic Accumulation. 

Chapter  XXXIII.— The  Modern  Theory  of  Col- 
onization. 


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No.  139. 

LIGHTNING,   THUNDER,   AND    LIGHTNING-CONDUCTORS.- By 

GERALD    MOLLOY,   D.D.,  D.Sc.— Illustrated. 


CONTENTS. 

LECTURE   I. 

LIGHTNING   AND    THUNDER. 


Identity  of  Lightning  and  Electricity— Frank- 
lin's Experiment — Fatal  Experiment  of  Riehman — 
Immediate  Cause  of  Lightning — Illustration  from 
Electric  Spark — What  a  Flash  of  Lightning  is— 
Duration  of  a  Flash  of  Lightning — Experiments 
of  Professor  Rood— Wheatstone's  Experiments — 
Experiment  with  Rotating  Disk— Brightness  of  a 


Flash  of  Lightning— Various  Forms  of  Lightning 
—Forked  Lightning,  Sheet  Lightning,  Globe  Light- 
ning—St.  Elmo's  Fire— Experimental  Illustration 
—Origin  of  Lightning— Length  of  a  Flash  of  Light- 
ning—Physical Cause  of  Thunder— Rolling  of 
Thunder— Succession  of  Peals— Variation  of  In- 
tensity—Distance of  a  Flash  of  Lightning. 


LECTURE    II. 
LIGHTNING-CONDUCTORS. 


Destructive  Effects  of  Lightning— Destruction 
of  Buildings— Destruction  of  Ships  at  Sea — De- 
struction of  Powder  Magazines  —  Experimental 
Illustrations — Destruction  of  Life  by  Lightning — 
The  Return  Shock— Franklin's  Lightning-rods- 
Introduction  of  Lightning-rods  into  England — The 
Battle  of  Balls  and  Points — Functions  of  a  Light- 


ning-conductor—Conditions of  a  Lightning-con- 
ductor—Mischief Done  by  Bad  Conductors— Evil 
Effects  of  a  Bad  Earth  Contact— Danger  from  Rival 
Conductors — Insulation  of  Lightning-conductors — 
Personal  Safety  in  a  Thunder-storm— Practical 
Rules — Security  afforded  by  Lightning-rods. 


APPENDIX. 


RECENT  CONTROVERSY  ON 
Theory  of  Lightning-conductors  Challenged — 
Lectures  of  Professor  Lodge — Short  Account  of 
his  Views  and  Arguments — Effect  of  Self-induction 
on  a  Lightning-rod— Experiment  on  the  Discharge 
of  a  Leyden  Jar — Outer  Shell  only  of  a  Lightning- 
rod  acts  as  a  Conductor — Discussion  at  the  Meet- 
ing of  the  British  Association,  September,  1888 — 


LIGHTNING-CONDUCTORS. 
Statement  by  Mr.  Preece— Lord  Rayleigh  and  Sir 
William  Thomson— Professor  Rowland  and  Pro- 
fessor Forbes — M.  de  Fonvielle,  Sir  James  Doug- 
lass, and  Mr.  Symons— Reply  of  Prof  essor  Lodga — 
Concluding  Remarks  of  Professor  Fitzgerald.  Pres- 
ident of  the  Section — Summary  Showing  the  Pres- 
ent State  of  the  Question. 


No.  140. 

WHAT     IS     MUSIC  ?  — With  an  Appendix  on  How  the  Geometrical  Lines  have 
their  Counterparts  in  Music. — By  ISAAC  L.  RICE. 

CONTENTS. 


PART  I. 


I.— Chinese  Theory. 

II.— Hindoo  Theory. 
III.— Egyptian  Theory. 
IV. —  Grecian  Theories. 

V. —  Arabic-Persian  Theory. 


I.— Space  and  Time  (Rest  and  Motion). 
II. —  Vibrations. 
III.— Colors  and  Forms. 


VI.— Scholastic  Theories. 
VII.—  Euler's  Theory. 
VIII.— Herbert  Spencer's  Theory. 
IX.— Helmholtz's  Theory. 


PART  II. 

IV.— Internal  Government. 
V.—  States  of  Mind. 
Conclusion. 


As  the  final  result  of  his  speculations,  Mr.  Rice  denies  that  music  is  an  invention  by  man.  and  hold* 
that  it  exists  in  Nature :  that  it  is  "not  accidental  and  human,  but  dynamical  and  cosmical."  Hit  rw 
seems  to  me  to  be  sustained  by  att  the  physical  facts  of  Nature  and  all  the  experience  of  man.—  RICHARD 
GRANT  WHITE. 

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OF    POPULAR     SCIENCE. 


No.  141. 

ARE    THE     EFFECTS     OF    USE     AND     DISUSE     INHERITED? 

An  Examination   of    the  View  held    by   Spencer   and    Darwin. —  By  WILLIAM 
PLATT  BALL. 

CONTENTS. 


IMPORTANCE  AND  BEARING  OF  THE  INQUIRY. 

SPENCER'S  EXAMPLES  AND  ARGUMENTS. 

Diminution  of  the  Jaws. 

Diminished  Biting  Muscles  of  Lapdogs. 

Crowded  Teeth. 

Blind  Cave-Crabs. 

No  Concomitant  Variation  from  Concomitant 
Disease. 

The  Giraffe,  and  Necessity  for  Concomitant 
Variation. 

Alleged  Ruinous  Effects  of  Natural  Selection. 

Adverse  Case  of  Neuter  Insects. 

.^Esthetic  Faculties. 

Lack  of  Evidence. 

Inherited  Epilepsy  in  Guinea-pigs. 

Inherited  Insanity  and  Nervous  Disorders. 

Individual  and  Transmissible  Tvpe  not  Mod- 
ified Alike. 

DARWIN'S  EXAMPLES. 

Reduced  Wings  of  Birds  of  Oceanic  Islands. 

Drooping  Ears  and  Deteriorated  Instincts. 

Wings  and  Legs  of  Ducks  and  Fowls. 

Pigeon's  Wings. 

Shortened  Breastbone  in  Pigeons. 

Shortened   Feet  in  Pigeons. 

Shortened  Legs  of  Rabbits. 

Blind  Cave-Animals. 

Inherited  Habits. 

Tameness  of  Rabbits.  [tion. 

Modifications  Obviously  Attributable  to  Selec- 


Similar  Effects  of  Natural   Selection  and  <  t' 

Use-Inheritance. 

Inferiority  of  Senses  in  Europeans. 
Short-sight  in  Watchmakers  and  Engravers. 
Larger  Hands  in  Laborers'  Infants. 
Thickened  Sole  in  Infants. 
A  Source  of  Mental  Confusion. 
Weakness  of  Use-inheritance. 

INHERITED  INJURIES. 

Inherited  Mutilations. 

The  Motmofs  Tail. 

Other  Inherited  Injuries  Mentioned  by  Darwin. 

Quasi-Inheritauce. 

MISCELLANEOUS  CONSIDERATIONS. 

True  Relation  of  Parents  and  Offspring. 

Inverse  Inheritance. 

Early  Origin  of  the  Ova. 

Marked    Effects  of  Use  and  Disuse  on  the 
Individual.  [ance  ? 

Would  Natural  Selection  Favor  Use-Inherit  - 

Use-Inheritance  an  Evil. 

Varied  Effects  of  Use  and  Disuse. 

Use-Inheritance  Implies  Pangenesis. 

Pangenesis   Improbable. 

Spencer's  Explanation  of  Use-Inheritance. 
CONCLUSIONS. 

Use-Inheritance  Discredited  as  Unnecessary, 
Unproven,  and  Improbable. 

Modern  Reliance  on  Lse-Inheritance  Mis- 
placed. 


No.  142  and  No.  143.  Two  double  numbers,  3O  cents  each. 

A  VINDICATION    OF  THE    RiGHTS    OF  WOMAN.- With  Strictures 

on  Political  and  Moral  Subjects. —  By  MARY  WOLLSTONECRAFT. —  New  Edition, 
with  an  Introduction  by  Mrs.  HENRY  FAWCETT. 

CONTENTS. 


Chapter  I. —  The  Rights  and  Involved  Duties  of 
Mankind  Considered. 

Chapter  II. — The  Prevailing  Opinion  of  a  Sexual 
Character  Discussed. 

Chapter  m.— The  Same  Subject  Continued. 

Chapter  IV. —  Observations  on  the  State  of  Deg- 
radation to  which  Woman  is  Reduced  by  Va- 
rious Causes. 

Chapter  V. —  Animadversions  on  Some  of  the 
Writers  who  have  Rendered  Women  Objects 
of  Pity,  bordering  on  Contempt. 

Chapter  VI. —  The  Effect  which  an  Early  Asso- 
ciation of  Ideas  has  upon  the  Character. 

Chapter  VII. —  Modesty. —  Comprehensively  Con- 
sidered, and  not  as  a  Sexual  Virtue. 


Chapter  VIII. —  Morality  Undermined  by  Sexual 
Notions  of  the  Importance  of  a  Good  Repu- 
tation. 

Chapter  IX. —  Of  the  Pernicious  Effects  which 
arise  from  the  Unnatural  Distinctions  estab- 
lished in  Society. 

Chapter       X.  — Parental  Affection. 
Chapter     XI. —  Duty  to  Parents. 
Chapter   XII. —  On  National  Education. 

Chapter  XIII. — Some  Instances  of  the  Folly  which 
the  Ignorance  of  Women  generates .-  with  Con- 
cluding Reflections  on  the  Moral  Improvement 
that  a  Revolution  in  Female  Manners  j.-.ight 
naturally  be  expected  to  produce. 


This  edition  is  a  reprint  of  the  first  edition,  which  appeared  nearly  one  hundred 
years  ago. 

Women    at  the   Present  Time   and   Women   a  Hundred  Years  Ago. 

The  women  of  today  can  scarcely  realize  the  conditions  their  sex  had  to  confront  in  those  old  times,- 
but  the  degradation  was  very  real,  and  the  protest  against  it  was  very  much  needed.  Mrs.  Fau-cet!  '„ 
introduction  will  be  found  highly  interesting  and  helpful. — New  York  Tribune. 


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STANDARD    WORKS    BY   VARIOUS    AUTHORS. 
Modern    Science    and    Modern    Thought.—  A  Clear  and  Coucise  View  of 

the  Principal  Results  of  Modern  Science,  and  of  the  Revolution  which  they 
have  effected  in  Modern  Thought. —  With  a  Supplemental  Chapter  on  Gladstone's 
"Dawn  of  Creation"  and  "Proem  to  Genesis,"  and  on  Drummond's  ''Natural 
Law  in  the  Spiritual  World." —  By  S.  LAING.  Cloth.  ...  75  cents. 

Upon   the   Origin   of  Alpine   and    Italian    Lakes;   and   upon   Glacial 

Erosion.— By  A.  C.  RAMSAY,  F.R.S.,  &c.;  JOHN  BALL,  M.R.I.A.,  F.L.S.,  &c.; 
Sir  RODERICK  I.  MURCHISON,  F.R.S.,  D.C.L.,  &c.;  Pi-of.  B.  STUDER,  of  Berne; 
Prof.  A.  FAVRE,  of  Geneva;  and  EDWARD  WHYMPER. — With  an  Introduction, 
and  Notes  upon  the  American  Lakes,  by  Prof.  J.  W.  SPENCER,  Ph.D.,  F.G.S., 
State  Geologist  of  Georgia.  Cloth 75  cents. 

Physiognomy  and  Expression.— By  PAOLO  MANTEGAZZA,  Senator;  Director 
of  the  National  Museum  of  Anthropology,  Florence;  President  of  the  Italian 
Society  of  Anthropology.  With  Illustrations.  Cloth.  .  .  .  .  $1.00 

The   Industrial   Revolution  of  the   Eighteenth  Century  in  England. 

Popular  Addresses,  Notes,  and  other  Fragments. —  By  the  late  ARNOLD  TOYNBEE, 
Tutor  of  Balliol  College,  Oxford. —  Together  with  a  short  memoir,  by  B.  JOWETT, 
Master  of  Balliol  College,  Oxford $1.00 

The  Origin  Of  the  Aryans. —  An  Account  of  the  Prehistoric  Ethnology  and 
Civilization  of  Europe.— By  ISAAC  TAYLOR,  M.A.,  Litt.  D.,  Hon.  LL.D.— 
Illustrated.  Cloth $1.00 

The  Evolution  of  Sex.— By  Prof.  PATRICK  GEDDES  and  J.  ARTHUR  THOMSON. 
With  104  illustrations.  Cloth $1.00 

'  Such  a  work  as  this,  written  by  Prof.  Geddes,  who  has  contributed  many  articles  on  the  same  and 
kindred  subjects  to  the  Encyclopedia  Britannica,  and  by  Mr.  J.  Arthur  Thomson,  is  not  for  the  specialist, 
though  the  specialist  may  find  it  good  reading,  nor  for  the  reader  of  light  literature,  though  the  latter 
would  do  well  to  grapple  with  it.  Those  who  have  followed  Darwin.  Wallace,  Huxley,  and  Haeckel  in 
their  various  publications,  and  have  heard  of  the  later  arguments  against  heredity  brought  forward  by 
Prof.  Weissmann,  will  not  be  likely  to  put  it  down  unread.  .  .  .  The  authors  have  some  extremely 
interesting  ideas  to  state,  particularly  Tvith  regard  to  the  great  questions  of  sex  and  environment  in  their 
relation  to  the  growth  of  life  on  earth.  .  .  .  They  are  to  be  congratulated  on  the  scholarly  and  clear 
way  in  which  they  have  handled  a  difficult  and  delicate  subject." — Times. 

The  Law  of  Private  Right.— By  GEORGE  H.  SMITH,  author  of  "Elements 
of  Right,  and  of  the  Law,"  and  of  Essays  on  "The  Certainty  of  the  Law,  and 
the  Uncertainty  of  Judicial  Decisions,"  "The  True  Method  of  Legal  Educa- 
tion," &c.,  &e.  Cloth.  .........  75  cents. 

CAPITAL:    A    Critical    Analysis    of    Capitalist     Production.— By 

KARL  MARX. —  Translated  from  the  third  German  edition  by  SAMUEL  MOORE 
and  EDWARD  AVELING,  and  edited  by  FREDERICK  ENGELS. — The  only  American 
Edition. —  Carefully  Revised.  Cloth $1.75 

"The  great  merit  of  Marx,  therefore,  lies  in  the  work  he  has  done  as  a  scientific  inquirer  into  the 
economic  movement  of  modern  times,  as  the  philosophic  historian  of  the  capitalistic  era. ' ' —  Encyclopcedia 
Britannica. 

"  So  great  a  position  has  not  been  won  by  any  work  on  Economic  Science  since  the  appearance  of 
The  Wealth  of  Nations.  .  .  .  All  these  circumstances  invest,  therefore,  the  teachings  of  this  partic- 
ularly acute  thinker  with  an  interest  such  as  can  not  be  claimed  by  any  other  thinker  of  the  present 
day.  — The  Athenceum. 

Published    semi-montmy.—  $3  a  year.—  Single    numbers,  15  cents. 


The  Tables  of  Contents  of  the  works  011   the  various    subjects  are  enumerated  in   the 

Descriptive   Catalogue. 

A    CATALOGUE    RAISONNf, 

Containing  all  the  works  in  THE  HUMBOLDT  LIBRARY,  up  to  and  including  No.  138, 
GROUPED  ACCORDING  TO  THEIR  SUBJECT-MATTER,  for  the  convenience  of  those 
who  desire  to  become  familiar  with  the  results  of  scientific  inquiry  in  any  of  the  following 
departments :— 

ASTRONOMY. 

No.  14.— THE    WONDERS    OF    THE     HEAVENS FLAMMABION. 

No.  20.— THE     ROMANCE     OF    ASTRONOMY MlLLEB. 

No.  49.— THE    SUN:    ITS    CONSTITUTION;    PHENOMENA;    CONDITION.  CASE. 

Essays  on  astronomical  subjects  are  also  contained  in 
No.  1.— LIGHT     SCIENCE     FOR    LEISURE     HOURS PEOCTOE. 

No.  19.— FAMILIAR    ESSAYS     ON     SCIENTIFIC     SUBJECTS PBOCTOB. 

Xo.  24.— POPULAR    SCIENTIFIC     LECTURES HELMHOLTZ. 

No.  41.— CURRENT    DISCUSSIONS    IN    SCIENCE.  .        .        .        .        .        .        .      WILLIAMS. 

No.  82.— ILLUSIONS    OF    THE     SENSES,   AND    OTHER    ESSAYS.        .        .        PBOCTOB. 

No.  90.— NOTES     ON    EARTHQUAKES,   ETC PBOCTOB. 

No.  120.— THE     MODERN    THEORY    OF    HEAT MOLLOY. 


BIOGRAPHY.— HISTORY    OF   SCIENCE. 

No.  43.— DARWIN  AND  HUMBOLDT AGASSIZ,  ETC. 

No.  80.- CHARLES  DARWIN:  HIS  LIFE  AND  WORK.  .  .  .  GBANT  ALLEN. 
No.  89.— THE  GENESIS  OF  SCIENCE SPENCER. 

A    HALF-CENTURY    OF    SCIENCE HUXLEY. 

THE    PROGRESS     OF    SCIENCE    FROM     1836    to    1886.  .        .      GBANT  ALLEN. 


).  96.5 


BIOLOGY.— ZOOLOGY.— BOTANY. 

Nos.  11  and  12.- THE    NATURALIST    ON    THE    RIVER    AMAZONS.     .        .  BATES. 

No.  26.— THE    EVOLUTIONIST    AT    LARGE ALLEN. 

No.  29.— FACTS    AND    FICTIONS    OF    ZOOLOGY WILSON. 

No.  33.— VIGNETTES     FROM    NATURE ALLEN. 

No.  48.— LIFE    IN    NATURE HiNTON. 

No.  64.- THE    DISTRIBUTION    OF   ANIMALS    AND    PLANTS.      .       .  WALLACE,  DYEE. 

No.  84— STUDIES    OF    ANIMATED    NATURE DALLAS. 

No.  92.— THE    FORMATION    OF   VEGETABLE    MOULD DAB  WIN. 

See  also  under  the  head  "  Evolution. "* ^ 

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EARLY    HISTORY    OF    MAN. 

No.  25.—  THE     ORIGIN    OF    NATIONS RAWLINSON. 

Nos.  44  and  45.— THE    DAWN    OF    HISTORY KEARY. 

No.  60.— THE     CHILDHOOD    OF    THE    WORLD CLODD. 

No.  71.— ANTHROPOLOGY.— ARCHAEOLOGY WILSON. 

Nos.  130  and  131.— THE    ORIGIN    OF    THE    ARYANS ISAAC  TATLOE. 

EDUCATION.—  LANGUAGE. 

No.  5.—  EDUCATION :    INTELLECTUAL,  MORAL,  AND    PHYSICAL.     .        .         SPENCER. 

No.  8.— THE     STUDY    OF    LANGUAGES MAECEL. 

Nos.  30  and  31.— THE    STUDY    OF    WORDS .          TBENCH. 

(THE     PHILOSOPHY    OF     STYLK.  .  ....  SPENCER. 

No.  34.  < 

<THE    MOTHER    TONGUE.  .  BAIN. 

X0.  66.— TECHNICAL    EDUCATION HUXLEY. 

No.  91.— THE    RISE    OF    UNIVERSITIES LAURIE. 

No.  98.— THE    TEACHING    OF     SCIENCE. CLIFFORD. 

No.  100.— SCIENCE     AND    POETRY WILSON. 

No.  105.— FREEDOM    IN    SCIENCE     AND    TEACHING HAECKEL. 

Nos.  108  and  109.— ENGLISH,   PAST    AND    PRESENT TRENCH. 

No.  21.— THE    PHYSICAL    BASIS    OF    LIFE,   AND    OTHER    ESSAYS.      .  HUXLEY. 

No.  53.— ANIMAL     AUTOMATISM,   AND    OTHER    ESSAYS HUXLEY. 

No.  61.— MISCELLANEOUS    ESSAYS PROCTOR. 

No.  66.— TECHNICAL    EDUCATION ".  HUXLEY. 

No.  73.— EVOLUTION    IN    HISTORY,   LANGUAGE,   &c Various  authors. 


ETHICS.— MANNERS    AND    CUSTOMS. 

No.  9.— THE    DATA    OF    ETHICS SPENCER. 

No.  28.— FASHION    IN    DEFORMITY FLOWER. 

No.  55.— THE     SCIENTIFIC    BASIS     OF    MORALS CLIFFORD. 

No.  63.— PROGRESSIVE     MORALITY FOWLER. 

No.  88.— SCIENCE    AND    CRIME. WILSON. 

No.  93.— CAPITAL    PUNISHMENT BLEYER. 

EVOLUTION    THEORY.— DARWINISM. 

No.  16.— THE    ORIGIN    OF    SPECIES HUXLEY. 

No.  36.— LECTURES    ON    EVOLUTION HUXLEY. 

No.  40.— ORGANIC     EVOLUTION ...        ROMANES. 

Published    semi-monthly.—  $3  a  year.—  Single    numbers.  15  cents. 


OF    POPULAR    SCIENCE. 


EVOLUTION    THEORY.— DARWINISM. 

Nos.  58  and  59.— THE     ORIGIN    OF    SPECIES DABWIN. 

No.  94.— THE     FACTORS     OF     ORGANIC    EVOLUTION SPENCER. 

No.  110.— THE     STORY     OF     CREATION CLODD. 

Nos.  115  and  116.—  DARWINISM A.  R.  WALLACE. 

Nos.  117  and  118.— MODERN     SCIENCE    AND    MODERN    THOUGHT.      .         .         S.  LAING. 

Nos.  132  and  133.— THE     EVOLUTION    OF    SEX GEDDKS  and  THOMSON. 

No.  23.— SCIENTIFIC     SOPHISMS    (criticism) WAINWRIGHT. 

See  also,  for  essays  coming  under  this  head, 

No.  17.— PROGRESS:     ITS    LAW    AND    CAUSE SPENCER. 

No.  21.— THE    PHYSICAL    BASIS    OF    LIFE HUXLEY. 

No.  73.— EVOLUTION    IN    HISTORY,   LANGUAGE,   &c Various  authors. 

GEOLOGY.— GEOGRAPHY. 

No.  0.—  TOWN    GEOLOGY KlNGSLEY. 

Nos.  38  and  39.— GEOLOGICAL    SKETCHES GEIKIE. 

No.  104.— TROPICAL    AFRICA DRUMMOND. 

Nos.  122  and  123.— THE     ORIGIN    OF    ALPINE     LAKES Various  authors. 

See,  also, 
No.  .21.— THE     PHYSICAL    BASIS     OF     LIFE,   AND    OTHER    ESSAYS.  HtJXLEY. 

No.  41.— CURRENT    DISCUSSIONS     IN     SCIENCE WILLIAMS. 

No.  79.— SCIENTIFIC    ASPECTS    OF    SOME    FAMILIAR    THINGS.      .        .      WILLIAMS. 

MAN.— ORIGIN.— PLACE    IN    NATURE.— RACES. 

Xo.  4.— MAN'S    PLACE     IN    NATURE HCXUSY. 

No.  71.— ANTHROPOLOGY ARCHAEOLOGY WILSON  and  TYLOR. 

Nos.  74,  75,  1C,  77— THE     DESCENT    OF    MAN DARWIN. 

Nos.  130  and  131.— THE    ORIGIN    OF    THE    ARYANS ISAAC  TAYLCR. 

MEDICINE.— EPIDEMICS. 

No.  15.— LONGEVITY GARDNER. 

No.  67.— THE     BLACK    DEATH.         .                 '      .  HECKER. 

No.  72.— THE     DANCING     MANIA     OF    THE    MIDDLE     AGES.        .        .        .  HECKER. 

No.  87.— THE     MORPHINE     HABIT BALL. 

See  also  works  by  RIBOT  tinder  the  head  "Psychology." 

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PHYSICS. 

No.  2.— THE     FORMS     OF    WATER TYNDALL. 

No.  7.— THE     CONSERVATION     OF    ENERGY BALFOUR  STEWART. 

No.  10.— THE    THEORY    OF    SOUND    IN    ITS    RELATION    TO    MUSIC.       .     BLASERNA. 

No.  18.— LESSONS    IN    ELECTRICITY TYNDALL. 

No.  37.— LECTURES     ON    LIGHT TYNDALL. 

No.  106.— FORCE    AND     ENERGY GRANT  ALLEN. 

No.  119.— THE     ELECTRIC     LIGHT MOLLOY. 

No.  120.— THE     MODERN     THEORY     OF    HEAT MOLLOY. 

Nos.  117  and  118.— MODERN     SCIENCE    AND     MODERN    THOUGHT.      .        .  LAING. 

POLITICAL,  ECONOMIC,  AND  FINANCIAL  SCIENCE. 

No.  3.— PHYSICS    AND    POLITICS BAGEHOT. 

No.  27.— LANDHOLDING    IN    ENGLAND FISHER. 

No.  42.— HISTORY     OF     THE     SCIENCE     OF    POLITICS POLLOCK. 

Nos.  50  and  51.— MONEY   AND    THE    MECHANISM    OF  EXCHANGE.      STANLEY  JEVONS. 

No.  78— THE    DISTRIBUTION     OF    LAND    IN    ENGLAND BIRKBECK. 

No.  83.— PROFIT-SHARING SEDLEY  TAYLOR. 

Nos.  102  and  107.—  ULTIMATE    FINANCE BLACK. 

No.  103.— THE    COMING    SLAVERY SPENCER. 

No.  121.—  UTILITARIANISM J.  S.  MILL. 

No.  124.— THE     QUINTESSENCE     OF     SOCIALISM. SCHAFFLE. 

No.  125.— DARWINISM    AND    POLITICS RITCHIE. 

Nos.  128  and  129.— THE    INDUSTRIAL    REVOLUTION TOYNBEE. 

No.  134.— THE    LAW     OF    PRIVATE     RIGHT SMITH. 

Nos.  135,  136,  137.—  CAPITAL KARL  MARX. 

See  also  No.  68,  Essays  by  Herbert  Spencer. —  No.  70,  Essays  by  Spencer.—  No.  90.  Essays  by  Proctor. 

PSYCHOLOGY.—  PHYSIOGNOMY. 

No.  13.— MIND    ANjD>    BODY BAIN. 

No.  22.— SEEING     AND     THINKING CLIFFORD. 

No.  46.— THE     DISEASES     OF    MEMORY RlBOT. 

No.  52.— THE    "DISEASES     OF    THE    WILL RlBOT. 

Nos.  56  and  57.—  ILLUSIONS :     A    PSYCHOLOGICAL    STUDY SULLY. 

No.  82.— ILLUSIONS    OF    THE     SENSES PROCTOR. 

No.  87. -THE    MORPHINE    HABIT BALL. 

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OF    POPULAR     SCIENCE. 


PSYCHOLOGY.—  PHYSIOGNOMY. 

No.  95.— DISEASES     OF    PERSONALITY RlBOT. 

No.  101.— DREAMS — ASSOCIATION    OF    IDEAS SULLY  and  ROBERTSON. 

No.  112.— THE     PSYCHOLOGY     OF    ATTENTION.  .     RIBOT. 

No.  113.— HYPNOTISM:    ITS  HISTORY  AND  PRESENT  DEVELOPMENT.    BJORNSTROM. 

Nos.  127  and  128.— PHYSIOGNOMY   AND    EXPRESSION MANTEGAZZA. 

See,  also, 
No.  32.  — HEREDITARY    TRAITS,  AND    OTHER    ESSAYS PROCTOR. 

No.  53.— ANIMAL    AUTOMATISM,   AND    OTHER    ESSAYS HUXLEY. 

No.  65.— CONDITIONS     OF    MENTAL     DEVELOPMENT CLIFFORD. 

RELIGION.— MYTHOLOGY. 

No.  35.— ORIENTAL    RELIGIONS CAIRO. 

No.  47.— THE     CHILDHOOD     OF    RELIGIONS CLODD. 

No.  54.—  THE    BIRTH    AND     GROWTH     OF    MYTH CLODD. 

No.  62.— THE    RELIGIONS     OF    THE    ANCIENT    WORLD RAWLINSON. 

No.  69.— FETICHISM SCHULTZE. 

No.  81.— THE     MYSTERY    OF     MATTER,    ETC PlCTON. 

No.  85.— THE     ESSENTIAL    NATURE     OF    RELIGION PlCTON. 

See  also  No.  68,  Essays  by  Herbert  Spencer.— No.  90,  Essays  by  Proctor. 

SCIENTIFICO-PHILOSOPHICAL   SPECULATION. 

No.  3.— PHYSICS  AND  POLITICS BAOEHOT. 

No.  20.— THE  ROMANCE  OF  ASTRONOMY MILLER. 

No.  48.— LIFE  IN  NATURE HlNTON. 

No.  81.— MYSTERY    OF    MATTER — PHILOSOPHY    OF    IGNORANCE.        .         .  PlCTON. 
No.  85.— THE     ESSENTIAL    NATURE     OF    RELIGION.        .......  PlCTON. 

No.  86.- UNSEEN  UNIVERSE — PHILOSOPHY  OF  PURE  SCIENCES.  .  CLIFFORD. 

No.  89.  — THE  GENESIS  OF  SCIENCE SPENCER. 

Nos.  97  and  111.— THE  PLEASURES  OF  LIFE LUBBOCK. 

No.  98.— COSMIC  EVOLUTION TEACHINGS  OF  SCIENCE.  .  .  .  CLIFFORD. 

No.  105— FREEDOM  IN  SCIENCE  AND  TEACHING.  ....  J1AECKEL. 

No.  114— CHRISTIANITY  AND  AGNOSTICISM Various  authors. 

Nos.  117  and  118.— MODERN  SCIENCE  AND  MODERN  THOUGHT.  .  .  S.  LAING. 

DARWINISM     AND     POLITICS RITCHIE. 

ADMINISTRATIVE     NIHILISM.  HUXLEY. 


(  DARW1 

No.  125.  { 

(  ADMIN 


v%  Most  of  the  Essays  under  this  head  are  named  in  other  divisions  of  this  classified 
Catalogue;   but  they  form  a  class   by  themselves. 

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MISCELLANEOUS. 

No.  1.— LIGHT     SCIENCE    FOR    LEISURE     HOURS PROCTOR. 

No.  ]7.— PROGRESS:     ITS    LAW    AND     CAUSE SPENCER. 

No.  19.— FAMILIAR    ESSAYS     ON     SCIENTIFIC     SUBJECTS PROCTOR. 

No.  21.— THE    PHYSICAL    BASIS     OF    LIFE,   AND    OTHER    ASSAYS.      .          HUXLEY. 

No.  41.— CURRENT    DISCUSSIONS    IN     SCIENCE WILLIAMS. 

No.  48.— LIFE    IN    NATURE HlNTON. 

No.  53.— ANIMAL    AUTOMATISM,   AND     OTHER    ESSAYS HUXLEY. 

No.  61.— MISCELLANEOUS    ESSAYS PROCTOR. 

No.  70.— ESSAYS,  PRACTICAL    AND    SPECULATIVE SPENCER. 

No.  73.— EVOLUTION  IN  HISTORY,  LANGUAGE,  AND  SCIENCE.  Various  authors. 
No.  79.— SCIENTIFIC  ASPECTS  OF  SOME  FAMILIAR  THINGS.  .  .  WILLIAMS. 
No.  82.— ILLUSIONS  OF  THE  SENSES,  AND  OTHER  ESSAYS.  .  .  PROCTOR. 
No.  86.— UNSEEN  UNIVERSE — PHILOSOPHY  OF  PURE  SCIENCES.  .  CLIFFORD. 

Nos.  97  and  111.— THE    PLEASURES    OF    LIFE LUBBOCK. 

No.  98.— COSMIC    EVOLUTION.— TEACHINGS    OF     SCIENCE.          .        .        .       CLIFFORD. 

No.  99.— NATURE-STUDIES Various  authors. 

No.  100.— SCIENCE    AND    POETRY WlLSON. 

No.  103.— THE    COMING    SLAVERY,   ETC SPENCER. 

No.  114.— CHRISTIANITY    AND    AGNOSTICISM HUXLEY  and  others. 

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SIX  CENTURIES  OF  WORK  AND  WAGES. 

By  JAMES  E.  THOROLD  ROGERS.  M.P.,  Professor  of  Political  Economy,  Oxford,  England. 
Abridged,  -with  Charts   and  Summary,  by  W.  D.  P.  BLISS. 

Ready,  February  1, 

MILL    ON     SOCIALISM. 

The  only  collection  of  JOHN   STUART  MILL'S  writings  on  Socialism. 

TO    BE    FOLLOWED    BY 

WILLIAM    MORRIS,-POET,   ARTIST,   SOCIALIST. 

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